At the End of a Long Hall Obnoxious florescent light blares against obscenely white walls and old-school spotted tiles, dissolving into one thin blue line running along the wall, about four feet off the ground. Endless hallways, with no windows or clocks to tell time, seem to maze their way through the building. There is no obvious exit or entrance, except for two large metal doors at one end that require a passkey and an ID card for the armed guards on the other side. Rooms left and right are hidden behind faus-wood doors with no windows to hint at what is on the other side. Chilled air blankets the wide-open hallway, like an open freezer, in the hope of sanitizing both germs and the human mind of any chance of escape. The silence is deafening through much of the hallway and there is no sign of life. Down the hall, in the 6th room of the 3rd floor, buried in the maze of winding hallways and endless closed doors, is a lab with machines that stretch to the high ceiling, whirling and humming with ene
Don't Let the Children DieI keep having flashes of memories,Or maybe they're dreamsOf things to comeAnd places I will goBut I'm not sure I want to,Knowing what's behind door #2.The rain is pittering down the wide glassGlints of light dripping down and running and sliding and glidingGlimmers of magic against the endless darkness of the world outsideSlivers of hope when the world needs it most.My head rests against the glass, in my mind's eye,And I can feel the coolness against my cheekEven though I'm not really there,I'm really here, where here is,And somehow I'm there, but not there...Where am I?My mind is a tangled thing,But I can see the world clearly for there and not hereIn that moment that I am there, but really here,And though I do not really know where there isI know it as though I've been there all my life,Though they are there, and I am here,I am somehow there too.People come and go and go and comeTraveling from here to there,Wherever there is for them and will be for any...Th
When Darkness Becomes the NightIn the dark chilly night, moving with a speed and silent accuracy of ghosts, seven men swiftly creep up on unsuspecting patrols and take them out. One with a swift sweep of a blade to an artery, another with a quick snap of the neck, and third with a silent stab of a combat knife through the back of the guy’s neck. All seven wearing all-black tactical uniforms, no flags, but all American private security personnel and all former military personnel.27 guards taken down without a single alarm going off, all in 15 mins, and the base left completely unaware of the strangers lurking in the shadows.It’d rained recently, with puddles everywhere and steam rising from the pavement. Massive shipping crates stacked 4 and five high, providing plenty of cover and darkness. Sharp shivers of wind bite but are still tolerable without winter wear. Mostly open space, no trees within a 2 mile radius of the shipping crates. Black water laps up against a dock nearby, and a small inflated craf
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