EXT. VILLAGE - SECONDS LATER
The camera shakes, the view impossible to make out as Darren ran like a bat out of hell.
The vision clears somewhat as he slows and pulls the camera up, the horizon hidden behind the ongoing storm, the various houses that line up the street just barely visible behind the rushing onslaught of snow. He briefly turns back, coughing and heaving as he keeps moving.
"Hey! Over here you ugly son of a- OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!!!" he screams, any hint of bravery dissipating in an instant once he got a good glimpse of the thing pursuing him, regret filling his voice as he turned and ran for the nearest door.
"Oh god oh, oh fuck, oh..." he gasps, trying the door handle only to discover it was locked. He rushes for the next door over, noticing it open ajar as he reaches out for it...
Suddenly, there is a strange noise behind him, and a jet of spittle shot out and splattered against the door ahead of him. A second later, the splatter burst into flames as if it was pure petroleum, causing Darren to cry out in fear before stumbling away.
"SHIT! Holy shit, what the fuck?!? Oh fucking, what the..." he gasps, turning back to see the thing gaining on him.
"W-wait-wait!" he calls out, lifting the bone up. "Here boy! You want the bone? Go, FETCH!" he shouts, before yeeting the bone off camera.
It doesn't work.
"Ssh-shit" he gasps, turning and running, gasping and crying as he finds himself leaving the town square and stumbling into a small playground. Glancing around for a place to hide, he keeps pressing on, trying to lose the thing through the storm and disappear into the blizzard.
The icy concrete beneath his feet however has other plans, his foot slipping and sending him tumbling over, the camera flying from his hand before landing on a soft patch of snow. It lays on it's side, the view askew as Darren looked up and stared right at the camera, a nearby swing just barely visible in the background.
Behind him, a pair of muscular digitigrade legs could be seen stepping into view, Darren staring at the camera with tear-soaked eyes before rolling onto his back and lifting his arm up. "W-WAIT!"
End Transmission
Day 3 - Private
Moderator: SOTF U Staff
End Transmission
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
Giving chase like this was wasting energy it could not yet afford to reclaim.
Fortunately, the human’s limitations brought it down without too much effort on the Chimera's part.
The camera easily caught the crinkling of snow under the Chimera’s talons, as it rapidly closed in on Darren. It knelt down beside him, seizing his arm violently and gesturing with a free claw to the PDA attached to it.
Its voice was easily audible, although it possessed a distinctly human quality it hadn’t before.
“THIS DEVICE.”
The Chimera glared at Darren, a claw on its free hand pointing to the PDA.
“EXPLAIN.”
Fortunately, the human’s limitations brought it down without too much effort on the Chimera's part.
The camera easily caught the crinkling of snow under the Chimera’s talons, as it rapidly closed in on Darren. It knelt down beside him, seizing his arm violently and gesturing with a free claw to the PDA attached to it.
Its voice was easily audible, although it possessed a distinctly human quality it hadn’t before.
“THIS DEVICE.”
The Chimera glared at Darren, a claw on its free hand pointing to the PDA.
“EXPLAIN.”
"Wh... Wh-whuh?" gasps Darren, fear and confusion blending together as he stares up at the strange creature looming over him.
"Y-y-you can t-tal-AAAaack!" he cries as it yanks at his arm, bending it in directions it wasn't supposed to go.
"I-IT'S A PDA!" he gasps, tears flowing freely. "TH-They gave it to us so that we can-AAaah-recieve messages! I-It's like a mini computer... Thing?!?" he cries, unsure if the creature could even understand any of the words coming out of his mouth.
"Y-y-you can t-tal-AAAaack!" he cries as it yanks at his arm, bending it in directions it wasn't supposed to go.
"I-IT'S A PDA!" he gasps, tears flowing freely. "TH-They gave it to us so that we can-AAaah-recieve messages! I-It's like a mini computer... Thing?!?" he cries, unsure if the creature could even understand any of the words coming out of his mouth.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
It understood the words. The meaning was elusive.
The Chimera backed off slightly, its main eyes gazing at the device - the two other sets remained fixed on Darren. Though its face wasn't at all humanoid, something approximating a curious look spread across it. It tapped the screen.
"Com-pu-ter."
Familiar, only faintly. Ever-present. Another means of communication. The others understood this as essential, almost. Sense-memory told the Chimera this was another form of power. Another language.
It used the one it had uncovered to learn more. Stilted, but intelligible.
"I understand. Understand me: Does this computer know I?"
It tapped the screen, and then pointed to its chest.
Darren flinches as the beast reaches it's claw out, his eyes flicking between it's and his PDA as it tapped the screen.
"I, um... I, uh, yes! I-I-I think? H-here..." he says, his hands shaking as he slowly reaches out, pressing various buttons on his screen until he got the page on the Chimera up. His chest was heaving rapidly, his bones rattling, fear gripping his soul as he complied as best he could.
"S-see? OW-OW! OW Ow ow..."
"I, um... I, uh, yes! I-I-I think? H-here..." he says, his hands shaking as he slowly reaches out, pressing various buttons on his screen until he got the page on the Chimera up. His chest was heaving rapidly, his bones rattling, fear gripping his soul as he complied as best he could.
"S-see? OW-OW! OW Ow ow..."
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
It watched as Darren manipulated the device, the words on the screen shifting until it reached a page with a trove of information.
The Chimera struggled to understand. The shapes were familiar, but it had difficulty ascertaining what information they carried. It surely was tied to the language they spoke, but it couldn’t grasp the specifics, only faint inklings that pawed at the back of its mind.
It searched for shapes it could recall, speaking as it did so in a reflex that it seemed to not notice.
“Finch. Adaptive. Origin. Tests.”
The lab. It could hear them.
“Chimera. I?”
It looked to the human, almost hoping it would confirm its understanding. It only communicated fear.
No matter - the computer contained all that it needed.
“I will take this.”
It grasped the PDA, and pulled.
The Chimera struggled to understand. The shapes were familiar, but it had difficulty ascertaining what information they carried. It surely was tied to the language they spoke, but it couldn’t grasp the specifics, only faint inklings that pawed at the back of its mind.
It searched for shapes it could recall, speaking as it did so in a reflex that it seemed to not notice.
“Finch. Adaptive. Origin. Tests.”
The lab. It could hear them.
“Chimera. I?”
It looked to the human, almost hoping it would confirm its understanding. It only communicated fear.
No matter - the computer contained all that it needed.
“I will take this.”
It grasped the PDA, and pulled.
"S-STOP, WAIT! It won't work if you-Aah! AAAaaaaAAAAaaaah!" screams Darren as the creature starts pulling on his arm. twisting it further.
He starts screaming in agony, his free arm flailing as he tries to crawl away, his wrist accidentally smacking the camera and sending it rolling onto its side. In the middle of the frame sits an old swing, swaying in the wind as Darren cries for help in the background.
Then, there was a pop. Followed by more screams, louder than the ones before, that in turn were followed by a slow drawn out tearing noise.
A moment later, a hand shoots out, gripping the snow-covered ground as Darren pulls himself back into frame. His face is drenched with tears, red and raw as he continues to wail.
"HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE! ANYBODY, HE-AAAAAAaaaaah!!!" he cries, violently dragged away off-screen.
Darren continues to bellow as a cacophony of noises fill the air, the audio choppy and often breaking. Sounds of tearing, ripping, snarling, snapping, fracturing, along with a series of furious growls that could only be described as alien in nature.
Darren's screams suddenly become muffled, followed by a fleshy rip and replaced with desperate gargles. The gargles don't last long however, stopping suddenly following a sound comparable to that of a sledgehammer bearing down on a watermelon.
After that, the next several minutes of footage consist exclusively of the sound of ravenous feasting, the swing still swaying in the middle of the frame.
And then, eventually, there was naught but silence.
Darren Decker: Deceased
He starts screaming in agony, his free arm flailing as he tries to crawl away, his wrist accidentally smacking the camera and sending it rolling onto its side. In the middle of the frame sits an old swing, swaying in the wind as Darren cries for help in the background.
Then, there was a pop. Followed by more screams, louder than the ones before, that in turn were followed by a slow drawn out tearing noise.
A moment later, a hand shoots out, gripping the snow-covered ground as Darren pulls himself back into frame. His face is drenched with tears, red and raw as he continues to wail.
"HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE! ANYBODY, HE-AAAAAAaaaaah!!!" he cries, violently dragged away off-screen.
Darren continues to bellow as a cacophony of noises fill the air, the audio choppy and often breaking. Sounds of tearing, ripping, snarling, snapping, fracturing, along with a series of furious growls that could only be described as alien in nature.
Darren's screams suddenly become muffled, followed by a fleshy rip and replaced with desperate gargles. The gargles don't last long however, stopping suddenly following a sound comparable to that of a sledgehammer bearing down on a watermelon.
After that, the next several minutes of footage consist exclusively of the sound of ravenous feasting, the swing still swaying in the middle of the frame.
And then, eventually, there was naught but silence.
Darren Decker: Deceased
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
Rage.
The sensation completely overwhelmed the Chimera, as it watched the light on the computer flicker, dim, and go out.
It couldn't have been sure that the human struggling hadn't done something to disable it, or whether the computer relied on him to survive somehow. Either way, it wouldn't have the time to study the information contained inside.
The anger was more than it had felt before; not a single spark to force it to action, but a shower of white-hot malevolence that compelled it in a way it could not resist.
Removing the human's limb was incidental. Nearly an accident. They were fragile, and the fastener on the device did not budge.
The violence it met the human with was very intentional. It worked against its instinct to rip and tear at vital organs, prolonging the encounter until the feeling abated.
After that, feeding became necessary. This expenditure of energy was not optimal.
It could still learn from what remained. The process was more gradual now, and not as startling as it was the first time it had consumed them.
Their complexity was enticing. How they had encoded information in matter wasn't unlike what it had done on instinct. Though they were limited, they were closer than anything it had encountered to itself.
It would have to be more careful with the others. The Chimera's own existence was a question that almost hurt to not have an answer to.
((X00 CHIMERA - continued elsewhere))
The sensation completely overwhelmed the Chimera, as it watched the light on the computer flicker, dim, and go out.
It couldn't have been sure that the human struggling hadn't done something to disable it, or whether the computer relied on him to survive somehow. Either way, it wouldn't have the time to study the information contained inside.
The anger was more than it had felt before; not a single spark to force it to action, but a shower of white-hot malevolence that compelled it in a way it could not resist.
Removing the human's limb was incidental. Nearly an accident. They were fragile, and the fastener on the device did not budge.
The violence it met the human with was very intentional. It worked against its instinct to rip and tear at vital organs, prolonging the encounter until the feeling abated.
After that, feeding became necessary. This expenditure of energy was not optimal.
It could still learn from what remained. The process was more gradual now, and not as startling as it was the first time it had consumed them.
Their complexity was enticing. How they had encoded information in matter wasn't unlike what it had done on instinct. Though they were limited, they were closer than anything it had encountered to itself.
It would have to be more careful with the others. The Chimera's own existence was a question that almost hurt to not have an answer to.
((X00 CHIMERA - continued elsewhere))
Darren's camera continued to record after the Chimera departed the scene. Snow gradually piled at the bottom of the lens, slowly but steadily covering up the blood-covered ice and what was left of Darren.
Approximately ten minutes into the recording, a gentle hum broke through the sound of wind whipping across the camera's microphone.
A small drone, a dull chrome device roughly the size of a basketball and sporting a set of shrouded rotors, floated gently into view. It disappeared above the camera, before the lens was jostled by what seemed to be a large plastic claw.
Seconds later, a smaller, more delicate robotic arm descended and assisted the first in retaining the camera. Before long, the device was raised from the snow and rapidly ascended into the sky.
It only took a few minutes for the drone to reach the Monitoring Station on the other side of the village, outside of the airfield. The drone guided itself through a small garage door at the side of the building, landing in a taped-off zone with dozens of others.
Each contained its own sample; blood, tissue, soil, personal belongings. All collected from the fallen Participants or left by the Prototypes themselves. The material legacy of Survival of the Fittest, cataloged and documented in a building only a few hundred meters from the experiment itself.
The camera lens jostled once more, as it was picked up by a nylon-gloved hand. Turning it once towards the camera, the stolid face of the mercenary known as Bishop came into view.
He seemed to study his reflection in the lens for a moment, before turning the camera back to the floor.
The recording ends.
Approximately ten minutes into the recording, a gentle hum broke through the sound of wind whipping across the camera's microphone.
A small drone, a dull chrome device roughly the size of a basketball and sporting a set of shrouded rotors, floated gently into view. It disappeared above the camera, before the lens was jostled by what seemed to be a large plastic claw.
Seconds later, a smaller, more delicate robotic arm descended and assisted the first in retaining the camera. Before long, the device was raised from the snow and rapidly ascended into the sky.
It only took a few minutes for the drone to reach the Monitoring Station on the other side of the village, outside of the airfield. The drone guided itself through a small garage door at the side of the building, landing in a taped-off zone with dozens of others.
Each contained its own sample; blood, tissue, soil, personal belongings. All collected from the fallen Participants or left by the Prototypes themselves. The material legacy of Survival of the Fittest, cataloged and documented in a building only a few hundred meters from the experiment itself.
The camera lens jostled once more, as it was picked up by a nylon-gloved hand. Turning it once towards the camera, the stolid face of the mercenary known as Bishop came into view.
He seemed to study his reflection in the lens for a moment, before turning the camera back to the floor.
The recording ends.