Two Sides of One Lie

     The soft, steady fall of the rain, accompanied by the distant boom of thunder helped to hide the already quiet foot falls of the man below. He wore a pair of dark tan colored pants made of a tough, rugged material, lined with a number of pockets. They were tucked in to a pair of black boots smeared with mud and grime. He had on a dark olive jacket that was thick and heavy, to protect him from the harsh elements of the Dead Zones. The jacket hung over his waist  and held by a belt that had a number of holsters and equipment hanging from it. His jacket was covered by a vest that had thick, armored plates on it. More holsters and equipment adorned it's front, a rifle slung from his back. A mask covered his mouth and nose. A filter on one side for protection from any kind of airborne anomalies. He had a black hood over his head, it's surface shone momentarily from the lightning's reflection.

     His gloves helped him grip tightly on his shotgun which he held pointing to the ground. It was a sawn-off M590 with a pistol grip and a flashlight. Wear was obvious on the aged parts of the gun. Scratches covered it's surface in many places, and a large prominent one marked the right side of the receiver, stretching from just above the pistol grip to the bottom edge of the ejection port. The gun carried many replacement and modified parts. The pistol grip of the shotgun was made of a grayish synthetic material unlike the wooden pump under the barrel and the muzzle of the gun carried a crude flash hider that clung to the barrel by a metal ring and pair of screws.

     Ever so carefully he walked through the dead forest, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Any pauses he made were limited to the rare moment he though he heard something other than the rain and thunder. His movements were smooth and coordinated, quietly and quickly guiding him through the trees. The lighting broke out the shadows for a brief second illuminating the environment with a glow that was quickly retaken by the darkness of the night, burning the image into his eyes. He didn't want to risk turning on his flashlights, lest he'd become a beacon for all the horrific creatures that hunted in the darkened forest.

     He came to a halt once he'd reached the edge of the forest. But now a new obstacle awaited him. Infront of him lay a vast field of knee-high plants, each had a beautiful glowing cyan bulb on top surrounded by the petals of flowers. It seemed to give off an aura that begged anyone nearby to come and touch the beautiful flower, and most clueless people would. But that's another mistake out here that would cost you your life. Death Nettle, he knew this plant well. There's a good reason it earned its name, and it would become painfully obvious to anyone stupid enough to touch the plant with their bare skin. It's leaves were like needles, hence the "nettle" part of it's name. Each one dripped a sticky, foul smelling, purple toxin. It's effects were almost immediate, and death occurred in a matter of seconds. Once it got into your bloodstream, your lungs would seize up and your chest would constrict, as though your ribcage were being crushed. Your entire body would quickly go numb and you'd fall to the ground completely paralyzed. Without any oxygen or muscle control your brain basically dies and you along with it.

     Slowly he waded through the endless sea of lights, careful to keep his hands away from the plants. But the night brought on another light show. Thousands of fireflies filled the air above the plants. They were one of the few creatures to remain largely unaffected by the radiation. They were also completely immune to the plant's poison. The fact that they still thrive out here is a miracle. At least for them.

     Minutes seemed to pass before he finally stopped. A sound pierced through the silence of the barren forest, but this time it wasn't just his imagination playing tricks on him. Far-off into the forest sounded a sharp, whistling cry. A scowl grew on his face as his muscles tensed up. The call was distant, but that didn't make it any less chilling. No matter how much he would hear noises like this, he would never get used to them. Pressing his attention away he proceeded forward, wading through the tall plants.

     He was stuck in his thoughts as he kept on going. He noticed something was definitely wrong. These areas were never this quiet. Especially after the sun has set. Granted, the thunder and rain covered up most noise, but he should still hear the occasional whirring of some insect or other natural noises. During the day these places were like graveyards. No activity at all. But not at night. It was always abuzz with activity at night. It didn't present a problem, but it left him feeling irked.

     As he neared the edge of the field a large warehouse finally came into view. Old ruined buildings like this always had some nice valuables hidden inside. To scavengers like him, it was a gold mine that had yet to be claimed. Slowly a smile crept upon his face, though hidden by his mask.

     He now continued forward at a slightly faster pace, eager to reach the building. As he exited the field he paused. Near the right side of the building, between the wall and a large generator stood a strange figure. In the pitch black he could make out only a small amount of detail. It was tall and appeared to be humanoid. It wore some sort of cloak that covered everything down to it's shins. The sight puzzled him. 'What stupid bastard would be out here with any kind of protective gear on?'

     He blinked tightly then reopened his eyes to be sure what he was seeing wasn't some kind of illusion. Much to his discomfort, when he looked back to the figure it was gone. Whatever it was hadn't even made a sound, and that only further disturbed him.

'I need to get more sleep.'

     He approached the door and stopped before he gripped the handle. Rust and damage tarnished it's surface. The small windows that once would have let light stream into the building, now remained boarded over and broken. He turned his head around and scanned the forest behind him briefly before turning around and walking through the entrance. As the door shut behind him he was engulfed in the darkness of the long forgotten building. He threw off his hood and turned on his shoulder mounted light, then reaching to his shotgun and switching on it's side flashlight and pointing it around the room. This was the entrance area. A small room like a reception office in a hotel. Infront of him at the end of he room was a large pair of metal double doors, and to the left of them was a desk with an old computer.

     Slowly he approached the door with his shotgun ready, sliding his finger onto the trigger he grabbed the handle and turned it around eliciting a soft click. It took him a moment of pushing before the door actually began to open, and when it did it created a loud screeching noise that echoed through the main body of the warehouse.

     The place seemed bigger from the inside. Rows upon rows of tall shelves packed with many old pieces of junk were everywhere inside. Boxes, tools, electronics, and various other things packed up the most of them. But he was looking for other items worth more of value. Items and resources like jewelry and copper he could sell for cash. Other materials he kept for himself. Things like gun parts, ammunition, shell casings and anything that went BOOM when ignited or mixed with something else.

     He started walking down the isle in front of him, all the while his eyes scanned the many objects littering the floors and shelves. As he was going along something flashed out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look upon the ground near one of the shelves. He spotted a small object in the darkness and, slowly, he bent over to pick it up. It was an old golden locket with a heart shaped carving on it's front. He smiled to himself. This is the kind of item he was looking for. This would fetch a nice price with any trader. He flipped open the front of the locket and it revealed a small picture of a man, his arm draped around the shoulder of a woman next to him, both appeared to be in their mid to late 40's. He stared at it only for a moment, before he closed it and put it in a large pack hanging from his belt. He turned back to the isle and kept on going down.

     He'd spent a few hours going through most of the shelves. The vast majority of what he found were useless pieces of junk. But he did run into a few valuables. He thought he was finished when he remembered the little rooms hanging above him. He was ready to go around and search for a staircase, but conveniently found one nearby. Slowly he approached the base of the metal stairs and scrutinized them with uncertainty. The paint had long since peeled away, and all that covered it's surface now was rust.

     He looked further up it's length, seeing it no better for wear above. Most of the steel supports that held the stairs up now laid on the ground, their worn and aged state having not been able to support their weight. He sighed and holstered his shotgun, carefully stepping onto the first stair. The stair seemed stable enough to hold him and he brought his foot down onto the next. With some assurance to their stability, he slowly ascended up...

*GROOAAAANNNN*

     He froze in place as the metal gave out it's wail of stress. Looking down he saw he was already half-way up, he couldn't turn around now. Gingerly he took another step up. With a loud screech, the stairs began falling loose from the wall. He broke into a sprint up the stairs, racing to get ahead before he plummeted with them. He reached the top just as his feet began falling under him, barely managing to get up onto the cat walk. He turned around to see the stairs cascade down onto the floor of the warehouse, echoing loudly on impact.

'Guess I'm not getting down that way'

     Choosing to ignore the obvious lack of a way down he proceeded over the catwalk to the first room to find it was similar to a little office. It had a number of file cabinets, a desk, and a computer. The desk itself had a small picture frame on it and a little name plate that read: Richard Dowe. He moved around to the back of the desk and bent down to get a good look at the picture frame. He took out the locket and looked at the man in it's picture. Sure enough, it was the same person in the photo on the desk. He had dark brown hair and was beginning to bald on top. He had light blue eyes and wore a white collared shirt with a blue tie. He was smiling and facing the camera.

     Underneath the picture frame was a stack of papers that were stapled in the corner. Slowly he removed the picture and grabbed the papers. It appeared to be a letter, and a long one at that. His curiosity got the best of him and he sat down in the office chair behind him and began to read.

June 12, 2032

Dr. Lowise

Preperations for Project Resource are almost complete, but I felt the urge to ask you why you removed the U.E.Ds. I know they may be sort of a burden, but a necessary one. I mean without a reliable fail safe to stop the ALVE incase of an emergency, imagine what would happen. I think it's just too dangerous to go on. Perhaps you should rethink your decision? In any case, the supplies you requested should arrive sometime within this week and I look forward to returning to the lab soon.

Dr. Dowe

     The next few pages are all covered up with ink so they couldn't be read. It wasn't until he reached the 8th page that he could actually read it.

October 1st, 2032

Dr.Lowise,

Why did this have to happen? I warned you and you didn't LISTEN! Now look what you've gotten us into. 26 people are dead. DEAD. I can't even sleep anymore after what I saw, and the memory haunts me every day. Dear God what have we done? What was that thing? Was that what you called the "Salvation of Humanity"? The glorious power you sought? Well take a good long look at what you've brought upon us. Your ignorance has costed far too many lives and all the while I still feel terrible knowing I played a part in this. I can't take the pain anymore. I'm going to end it today. I've already locked away your little souvenir. No one should ever mess with that kind of power. By the time you've read this I'll already be gone. Have fun with your "Salvation" you twisted son of a bitch.

     That appeared to be the last letter. It left a number of questions to be answered, all of which he shrugged off being more focused on finding the object that was mentioned in the paper. He said he locked away the so called 'souvenir'. Maybe it was worth something? If only he could find it. He put the papers in his backpack hoping they might possibly help him find the object. He went to pick up the locket but paused before his hand reached it. There was a faint golden aura surrounding the it's outline. He slowly grabbed it and pulled it away from the table and the glowing steadily faded. As he moved it closer it began to return.

     It took him awhile but he managed to narrow it down to the highest amount of glowing coming from around the bottom left drawer. He opened it up to find a fairly large box with a metal lock on the front. He set it out on the table and grabbed a paper clip and screw driver from a holster on his belt. He inserted the bent end of the paper clip and began placing each tumbler in one by one. Finally the last one clicked in place and he turned the screwdriver to the right which caused the top of the box to pop open just slightly.

     Satisfied with his work he put up his tools and gently lifted the top of the box. Inside was a cloth draped over something round in shape. He pinched the top of it with his fingers and threw it off. When he saw the object a look of confusion came upon his face. It was some softball sized glowing rock that was orange gold, similar to honey. It had a strange black web like pattern surrounding the glowing parts.

     He hesitantly reached for it, cupping it in his hands and delicately lifting it out of the box. He turned it around, and took his time admiring it with his eyes. He had no idea what he'd found but knew he had to get it back to Fort Downpour fast. A new goal set into his mind, he took off his backpack and unzipped it, proceeding to carefully lower the object in. Without paying attention, the object slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. Fearing he had possibly damaged it he quickly looked down over the spherical rock.

     To his horror and bewilderment, a series of cracks had formed over its surface. Each one had a bright light pouring out of it, steadily groaning in intensity. It began to vibrate violently, and out of impulse the man slowly began to backpeddal. Pieces of it rapidly started  to break off and fly away. He wanted to try and stop it, but he was helpless to do so. So he only had one option. Run and take cover. With his realization he spoke the first two words he'd said that day.

     "OH, SHIT!"

     He turned around to run but was too late, the object exploded with a bright flash of light and that was the last he remembered.