Modern Technology

>>>>INITIATE SIGNAL TRANSFER
>>>>>>COMSPORT OPEN

Hey guys, long time no speak eh?

Shit man! It feels good to have my head square.

So I may have dropped off the grid a little since my last post, but make no mistakes, the voice of the truth has not gone anywhere!

No, I've just needed to get my head on straight, and the company has given me a hand in doing so.

Of course what I actually mean is that I feel like I've had a full blown lobotomy!

You see, according to KG; my handler, I've been a little moody as of late, she thinks that perhaps I got a little too involved in the case of Tyler Freeborn, that I've become a bit of a loose cannon, that my obsession with The Eight is moving beyond what is expected of a Company Operative.

Then you see we have the recent events in Transylvania, he facility and the events that happened there.

All in all they thought I needed a bit of a lift.

Queue three days of Q&A and Controlled R&R at the HQ, and I'll be honest, things do feel better.

Don't get me wrong, his isn't some sort of brainwashing, yes they tried, yes they tried to get information out of me about the engines, about the whispers, but I was able to keep that to myself.

With just a few memories I kept everything together, and managed to keep my everything in check.

Yes it was invasive, and fucking painful, but it also put things in perspective.

They used to say that dark days were coming, but they're here.

They're here, and they've been here for a while, but with the strength of those close to me, and a few anxiety blockers provided by the men in the blue coats, I think we can reach the other side.

Anyway, my transmission is fading, loosing signal with the transnode, I'll speak again soon.

We've all got a lot to look forward to, an end to strife, a new dawn... Personally I'm just hopeful for celebrating Christmas with someone special, Camden or Upper East Side, don't mind where, just keeping my priorities in check.

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Eyes That Glitter - Where do we go from here?

>>>>>>INITIATE COMMSLINK

>>>>>TRANSMISSION ACTIVE

Hey guys, Skorn here with another update for you all.

Now I was going to continue my detailing of what brought us here but instead I'd like to share with you some thoughts about the past, the future, and all in between.

Fuck man! I mean I don't know where to begin!

Recently I've seen some things, things that I never ever wanted to see.

It's like that song said about walking into empty.

Anyway, it's gotten me thinking, about how things were, how they are, how they might be...

I mean shit! It wasn't that long ago that I was focussed, I knew what I wanted to do, and there was nothing that would get in my way... Then they revealed themselves to me, the whispers.

I realised that I was lugging around a sack of mouldy potatoes and only I could relinquish them...

And you know what? I did! And things were good. Really fucking good!

You know?

I learned so much, so quickly. How hurt can sometimes be a bandage, and how you have to rip it off to heal, but also, once you are healed, you can open yourself up to be hurt again.

That's what I've done, I've let myself feel something that I never thought I would again, not after the Surrey Incident, and i wouldn't change that for the world.

I guess, sometimes I just wish we could go back to where things made more sense...

Fuck! It wasn't long ago that all I thought about was that day, that the whole concept of a future seemed pointless and irrelevant, now it's all I catch myself thinking about: is there a future? Will we make it? Will I fuck things up somehow?

Does she worry about the same things as me, or am I just some emo twat who's reverted back to being 14?

I don't know the answer to any of this, and frankly I'm too afraid of what the answer would be, and what that could mean.

But after seeing what I saw... Do I even want there to be a future? If people are capable of doing that?

Do we even deserve a present?

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Destination: NYC

>>>>>CONNECTION RE-ESTABLISHED
>>>>TRACKER DISABLED
>>>>>>>>COOKIES DELETED

Hey guys!

Long time no speak! Sorry had a fucking Orochi drone on my ass! Every time I tried to get a secure line, BAM! Compromised!

But here we are again, and I'm ready to continue my tale.

So we had made our way to London and Agent H and I had shared the closest thing to a normal evening together since all this shit had started.

Anyway, over night I'd been hitting my usual hang outs, trying to find a location from a photo. I knew it was in London, but finding the spot? That was proving to be a real pain in the ass.

Thankfully I happen to know some of the best in town and we managed to track down the site, so Agent H and I went on a raid.

Shit man! The site was a bombshell! Looked like a nuke had gone off and left only rotting pizza boxes as fallout.

But low and behold, yet another demon circle.

So we got to work with the decrypting, and before we knew it we were seeing another answer phone message from Hell, this time it was telling us to go to New York, into the very sewers that hides the entrance to our HQ.

I didn't know what this demon worshiping SOB was up to, but doing it right on the company's doorstep? Either that took serious balls, or the guy was out of his fucking mind!

That if course meant another trip through the Hollow Earth, having our insides torn out through our mouths and spun in a spin dryer.

I'm not being literal of course, fuck no! But let me tell you, phasing through into Agartha is not pleasent.

We didn't waste any time, straight through to the sewer entrance, and that was where we met our next contact, a grumpy, sex obsessed emo who for anonymity's sake will be called Agent I.

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

The Overlook Motel

>>>>>INITIATE CONNECTION
>>>>>DATA TRANSFER COMPLETE

Hey guys!

So how about that Overlook Motel? Does it look like Hell on Earth? Like the Brimstone itself has burst forth trying to claim our land? Like the fiery grip of the underworld has reached for our souls?

Fuck yeah! Because it has!

Agent H and I could not believe what we were seeing, deep cracks had formed in the Tarmac from which all manner if foul smelling flame burned, and in the background shit I can't even begin to describe crawled and writhed just out of sight.

It was at the Motel that we met a survivor, a journalist who was following some dude. The trail had gone cold after he had reached the motel, but he thought that maybe us, with our swords, guns and fucking Bee magic could maybe succeed where he failed.

And so H and I started on our first investigation together.

Shit man, I've heard many people say that they've been to a motel and that it's bathroom was hell, but in the case of this place, where it all started, it was literal.

Room 13, the walls smouldering, peeling and breathing.

Our target had been kind enough to leave us his journal where he had documented his travels but most importantly he had also left us the first clue we needed, a cypher for decoding hell-speak.

We searched high and low before we found it, painted in blood on the boards covered by a rug, a circle of sorts with runes and symbols I had never seen before in my life, Agent H was able to find the cypher in the book and working together, her translating based on the cypher, me manipulating the runes, we were able to activate the secrets locked in the circle.

It was a message left by our target. Shit he looked like he was in a bad state of affairs, kept talking about some love of his or some shit.

Anyway, we had his journal and was able to follow his paths. This would lead us to London via Agartha.

Yup, Agartha is real my friends! The hollow earth, the world tree! Call it the fuck you want, it's there under our feet, and with the right tuning you too can reach it.

Getting there however feels like your being turned inside out, your brain being turned into cauliflower cheese while your guts are put through a blender.

It's the end result that matters though, travelling from the US to England in a heartbeat.

Anyway, it was getting late, too late to carry in the investigation, so Agent H and I went for a drink, how better to share with her good oil' English hospitality?

So I shared with her my story, she shared with me hers, but throughout the whole thing I had a nagging suspicion, like someone was watching us just out of sight.

Eventually we hit closing, Agent H got a room in the pub while I caught the last train to my flat.

Tomorrow we would continue our investigation, and frankly the longer I was away from that infernal motel the better.

Shit I'd even take the Wendigo and Zeds over that place.

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

The Hunt Begins

>>>>>>INITIATE CONNECTION SEQUENCE
>>>>>>CONNECTION UNAVAILABLE
>>>>>>>REROUTE THROUGH ROOM 404
>>>>CONNECTION ESTABLISHED

Hey guys!

So where did I leave off? Ah yes I met Agent H.

Now don't get me wrong, I may give her some stick, but she's the closest thing I have here for a friend. She's seen me at my worst but through it all has leant a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on.

Fuck! Telling the truth I don't think I'd be here today if it wasn't for her.

Anyway, I introduced myself to her, identified myself as not a threat, although I wasn't sure if I was a friend at that point, and enquired as to why there was a cute Asian chick with a sword running around Kingsmouth.

She told me she was here to meet someone, a dude by the name of Beaumont, didn't know who he was, where he was or what he even looked like, but her sources were leading her in a wild circle.

So me being the fine gentleman I am, and Agent H being the prettiest girl I'd met in a long while, I offered my services.

I'll be honest with you, the walk was pleasent, we made it through Kingsmouth out to the countryside beyond, something about H's contacts suggesting to check out the Innsmouth Academy.

But it was getting late and we needed somewhere to rest. That was when we spied the Overlook Motel.

Shit, I remember how she couldn't stop staring at the massive eye on the top of the motel's sign. I had my assumptions about her before, but that was enough to cement it. The girl worked for the same company as me.

When I told her about my realisation she seemed scared at first, but then when I showed her my own 'secret decoder ring' she soon calmed down.

That was when we saw the motel itself.

They say a picture tells a thousand words, and this one is fucking biblical

>>>>>>>INSERT PHOTO REF:HELL ON EARTH



>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Case File: Zombies

>>>>>>COMMSLINK ESTABLISHED
>>>BEGIN TRANSMISSION

Case File: Zombies

>>>INSERT COV REFERENCE IMAGE


Transcript Notes by Agent Skorn:

So you want me to talk about the Zed Heads? The Rotts, The Walkers, the [CENSORED] Zombies?

Sure I'll tell you about [CENSORED] Zombies.

You ever see the film Dawn of the Dead? If not, go out, watch that film and learn everything from that.

Then once you've watched that forget everything you learned!

That piece of [CENSORED] knows nothing about Zeds. Not a [CENSORED] thing!

Sure 28 Days Later got the speed down right, but that was about it.

[CENSORED] if you want to learn about Zeds, play some Left 4 Dead, the speed, the punishment they can take, the [CENSORED] mutations! It's all there.

I swear Valve must have had the inside track when they made that game.

Ok, so here's what I know.

There's a virus. It's related to the fog somehow, and those infected turn into Zed Heads.

Go to Kingsmouth, there's a [CENSORED] load of them there. More target practice than you can imagine.

Sure a bullet to the brain puts them down, but I'm not convinced it's permanent.

In my time at Kingsmouth I must have re-killed well over a hundred of these [CENSORED] but you go back there now and they're still swarming the place.

Temporary stoppage, that's all a bullet does. I don't know if there's some sort of re-growth that goes on there, maybe their cells ain't properly dead, but I swear they come back.

That's why fire is so important.

Burn the [CENSORED]! Chop them up and burn them.

Some people might tell you that they can be rehabilitated, that they remember who they were. [CENSORED] that [CENSORED]!

There's no memory, there's no second chances, just put them down like the animals they are!

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Tyler Freeborn: A Tribute

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>>>>>>>>>>>>>INSTALL JAVA
>>>>>>>INSTALLATION FAILED
>>>>RESUME TRANSMISSION

I don't know what's up with my dreams, I mean they're so vivid and intense.
Like I'm wide awake and when I wake up I'm exhausted. Like I haven't slept a wink all night.
But I know I had.
And I think sometimes, even when I'm awake... I'm still dreaming.
Because I keep hearing the whispers.
They're always whispering. Always. All the time.
They've got so much to whisper about.
-Tyler Freeborn

Those were the last words of the great Cryptozoologist; Tyler Freeborn.

Up to this point I have been covering my story and telling my tale in a linear fashion, ensuring our connections were good and understanding was had.

Tomorrow I will resume where I left off, but today I must instead pay tribute to a great man, a brave explorer who should be standing shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Drake and Scott, but instead will be refined to the annulus of history.

I didn't know him in life, fuck, I didn't even know about his blog Monsters of Maine until someone pointed me in it's direction just a few days ago.

But I can tell you, he was a great and brave man, a man who refused to let anything stand in his way.

I implore you, if you read this post, go to his blog, read his words.

His evidence exists, I have seen it myself. I have walked in his shoes and I have ventured into the mist.

The eight strive for freedom, and it is only through the strength of men and women like Tyler Freeborn that we can overcome the darkness.

Good night, sweet prince. May they whisper no more whisper into your ear...

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Destination Kingsmouth

>>>>>>>SECURE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED
>>>>>>>INITIATE TRANSMISSION

We on?

Ok green light!

Hey guys! Skorn here again with another story about what led him here.

I just want to give a shout out to my best friend in the world, Agent H! Hi! Don't worry I've taken what you said onboard, and bumped up the security, you know, wrapped the encryption in more encryption!

Anyway.

So there I was, stranded in the middle of no where, but I did have my phone, and thanks to google maps it knew there was a town a short distance away.

Well, things started going down hill long before I reached the town itself.

It started with a smell, a horrid foul and fetid smell of death that alerted me to what was ahead, but I really had no idea to expect what was really there.

Before me was the opening to Kingsmouth Town, a place that read like a cross between a Steveb King novel and fucking HP Lovecraf!

From the entrance I was standing I could see what looked like the Sheriff station, a good place to start if any in finding out what the fuck happened, on top of the roof of the station was a young man, someone I'd later come to learn was named Andy.

All around this kid was a sea of dead, moving, walking, writing dead.

Fucking Zed Heads! Walkers! Rotts! I'm talking of course about Zombies, the very thing that metaphorically dragged me down this rabbit hole.

Anyway. He was doing well, had some home made dynamite and was throwing it away from the Zeds, fucking hilliarious! Watching them chase after it like a dog after a bone only to get blown into chow!

Well, i wasn't about to be an arsehole, so with my trusty pistols I helped him thin the numbers so I could make it inside the station, there they had what looked like the remaining survivors; a doc, the sheriff and a few yokels, townies they called themselves.

Things looked pretty grim for these people and HQ were still not picking up the phone, so i offered my hand in helping out with looking for missing people.

It's funny really, i I wonder how things would have turned out if I hadn't followed through with that task at that exact time, as it was then, surrounded by the Solomon Mist, on the coast of Kingsmouth, Zed Head blood staining my jacket, searching for the last of the town's reported survivors that I met her.

Every story needs someone to mix things up, to take a straightforward path and turn it on it's head and that's just what she did.

With jet black hair and eyes that pierced your soul I knew she would be trouble, but it was obvious that she was not a local or a survivor from the town, no she was like me, someone dispatched from the Company, and possibly a 'bee' as well.

And that was how I met Agent H.

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Case File: Wendigo

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>>>BEGIN TRANSMISSION

Case File: Wendigo

>>>INSERT COV REFERENCE IMAGE






Transcript Notes by Agent Skorn:

So let me get this straight, you want me to talk about what I saw? You've seen the report! There's a [CENSORED] load of [REDACTED] there!

Oh you just want me to talk about Wendigo? You've got to be [CENSORED] with me! [REDACTED] are all over those islands, and you want me to tell you about [CENSORED] Wendigo!

Fine.

They're native I think to North America.

From what I could tell they're native in more ways than one.

[LAUGHTER]

Yeah ok, no jokes.

Well I heard a story from a local, something about a Native American who are only raw meat until he turned into a baby-eating beast.

Not the best page turner I must be honest, but if you head down to the caravan park you'll hear tonnes more stories.

Most seem to follow the same path, Native Americans who went cannibal and became something different, as if the process of eating your own kind turns you into a beast.

I don't buy it myself. I've heard a [CENSORED] load of stories of men being trapped on Everest or some [CENSORED] and they didn't become literal monsters after eating their buddies.

What I do know is that they are out there, on those islands and they are hungry.

If you want my recommendations, I'd say to take a strike team and exterminate every one of them. While I was there I even saw one of the [CENSORED] reach Kingsmouth town! Imagine if it had reached a school or whatever? [CENSORED] that sort if [CENSORED] isn't even worth thinking about!

Yeah I killed a few myself, but they didn't go down easily, and it's not as if I was alone.

So yeah, my recommendation? Napalm, lots and lots of napalm. Show those [CENSORED] not to mess with us and to stick to their hovels in the mountains.

Now do you mind letting me out of this [CENSORED] room?

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

The First Mission

>>>>>>CONNECTION ESTABLISHED
>>>INITIATE TRANSFER

Are we up? Yeah, ok I think we're good! I sure hope you guys realise what hoops I'm jumping through to get this signal out.

Wait what's tha..? Ok we're in.

Right sorry about that, where did I leave off?

Ah right my first mission.

So I on the same day that I met my handler, a real bitch goes by the twitter handle @CorporateBlues

My god if she knew I was doing this she'd string out my guts and turn them into a handbag strap!

Anyway, so my handler decided that the best way to trial things was to dump a bunch of us in the middle of nowhere and see what happened.

According to the bells and whistles of the time some serious stuff was going down in New England, the sort of stuff I has seen in Surrey but on a massive scale; a whole town shrouded in mist, the inhabitants being killed and returning as the walking dead.

So, me and four other dudes dropped in, dumped into the middle of a forest with nothing more than basic weaponry, some cash and a satellite phone to keep in contact with HQ. The mission: assess the situation, assist any other agents you may meet and remove any aggressor presence.

Sounds simple right?

Well, turned out the 4 others I arrived with were ex-mil, they started talking about clicks and perimeters all that crap. Me? I bunkered down, pulled out a bottle of coke and bag o' Malteasers and decided it was time to enjoy the New England countryside, after all other than my time at NYC for basic training earlier I had never even been to the States before.


You know, I'll never forget that night. The screams and the howls of pain. I found out later that it was classified as a Wendigo, but all I knew was that it was bigger than a man, with claws and teeth bigger than my head.

It killed the rest of the team while they were sleeping, or when they scrambled to get their stuff together, just one of them against four highly trained army dudes.

Then it was just it and me.

I could see it's hunger in it's eyes, the madness and rage that burned within. If there was any intelligence it was consumed by the need to feast.

It ran at me with no concern for itself, like a crazed animal it's mind focused on one thing and for what felt like forever we wrestled on the ground, it's clawed nails digging and tearing at my skin.

I don't know how long we fought, but I do remember that moment, the very moment it roared in my face and I knew what I had to do.

Hmm, funny really.

It was the first time I had ever fired a gun at a living creature, and in one shot the bullet ripped off the back of the creatures skull.

I remember it didn't die straight away, it lay there on the ground twitching and spasming, it's eyes still crazed with blood lust, still intent on eating my face.

A second shot to the temple at point blank range stopped that however.

I took my trophy on that day, a memory of my first kill. Let me tell you a Wendigo tooth makes a pretty awesome pendant!

Anyway, that was that, all alone in the middle of a strange country and no one answering the god damn phone!

So yeah, anyway, there's a little red light blinking at me so I need to wrap this up...

>>>>>>TRACER ENABLED

Ok that's my queue! I'll be back as soon as I can get another uplink.

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

Skorn: Origins, or "How it all began"

Hey guys!

So if your reading this that means you've back for more. Sweet!

I suppose it would help if I explained how all this began. At least in regards to my involvement anyway:

Believe it or not, but I haven't always been an agent of The Company. I used to be a regular Joe like you.

I worked nine to five for a police force maintaining their networks and telling officers to fix their issues by turning it off and on again.

Fuck me! The number of times I had to tell them to turn it off and on again! And what would you know? It fixed it!

Anyway, do you guys remember that incident in Surrey with the Zombies? No? Of course not.

You see for as long as the modern world has existed there have always been people like me making sure that people like you don't see the real world, behind the scenes and what makes things tick. When something rises from the depths of the Atlantic to feast on d20 souls per turn, we're the ones who keep you thinking that it was a nuclear weapons test, or the supposed remains of a giant squid, that sort of shit.

Amazingly this shit happens more than you realise. When you read about a dog going crazy and being put down? Most of the time it's true, but every once in a while, it's a werewolf. The armed response who dealt with it? Me and my buddies.

Those incidents of crazed druggies hyped up on PCP? Zed Heads

Anyway, roughly a year ago I was at ground zero of one of these incidents.

C-147B it's classified as. C-147B.

Between you and me it's much more than a classification. It was the time I realised there's more to this world than we see.

It started small and thankfully never got out of hand, but not before a good friend of mine was bitten and put down.

You see, as that dude said in that film with that woman in, in the land of the infected, the immune are king.

And that's what happened. Me and my friends, there's something about us, for some reason that I don't understand we're different. The boys in the lab call us "Bees".

All that matters is that we're immune to this Zed shit, same as that black goo they call the Filth.

My friend? She wasn't immune.

Anyway, it was then that the Company picked me up and threw me down the rabbit hole and I've been chasing carrots ever since.

But that's not to say it's all bad. The Company? They fixed me right up, installed some chip in my head that turbofies my tech talent and regulates my motabalism. I mean shit! Before all this I had a beer belly and had to count every calorie just to stop myself being counted as 'morbidly obease'. Now I can eat what I want when I want and still look like an extra from Spartacus!

Fast forward through more paperwork than you could stomach, weeks and months of stamina building and firearms use and the Company thought I was ready for my first field op.

>>>>>MESSAGE COMPROMISED

Wait, what?

Fuck! They're zeroing in on my transmission site!

Fuck Fuck!

Ok I'm going to have to carry this on another time once I've got another secure node.

Remember, fight the whispers!

>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY

The Truth Begins

If you have found me then this means you already know the truth.

There are many evils out there, some are horrific beasts, Zeds, Wendigo, Wraiths and Vamps. Others prefer to wear a human face and fill our ears, eyes and minds with red tape, jargon and bureaucracy.

Regardless I am assuming you have seen my message on Mr Loxley's blog and have come here searching for answers.

Good.

For now, keep watching, keep waiting.

There is a great and terrible darkness coming, and when it does we will all need to be vigilant.

I will contact you all again soon.

>>>>>>SIGNAL LOST
>>HAVE A NICE DAY