Recordfile: 058, March 10, 2020
Name: Project Shutdown
Subject: Project [REDACTED]
To: Dr.Alphine
From: USA Military General, Zion Neptune
GZ: On the order of the president and other high officials of the [REDACTED] superhuman project, it is concluded that all research material and subject [REDACTED] are to be handed over to the government. Please sign at the document papers that arrive at your office and await further instructions.
DA: What kind of Bulls**t are you spouting!?
GZ: Like I said, this is an order.
DA: You can’t just take our research away!
GZ: If you don’t comply, we can easily send thousands of missiles to site [REDACTED], so please follow orders.
DA: But me and the others have spent ten years working on this project! You just can’t take this all away! Plus it was the government that told us to work on this in the first place!
GZ: And that is why we are allowed to take it away in the first place.
DA: F**k you and the government!
GZ: What ever you say, you know that is not going to change anything.
DA: F**k! God damnit! Your all little s**ts!
GZ: Just please sign, or you can choose the missile.
DA: F**k you! Fine, ill f**ken sign!
GZ: Thank you for giving me your time.
DA: Just stop talking!
Record Stop - Play Again
Tusingo Camp, Paris, France
July 2, 2032, year 2 of superhuman outbreak
It was a dark night. A really dark night. Except, it was not suppose to be. And it was not.
Fire rose up higher and higher into the sky, burning everything.
Smoke flew up into the clouds and creating a black, char blanket, burning lungs and singeing the bodies littering the ground. Some bodies were stabbed, others shot, some died in weird ways like icicles through the heart.
People were shouting, some were screaming, others were hiding and crying. People were running left, right forward, but not backward, except one man.
He looked in his early twenties, was muscular, and had a calm face. His eyes were as orange as fire yet as cold as ice, his hair black. He stood about 6 feet tall, and was quite good looking compared to most men.
So why was he walking towards the fire?
He continued walking, and then just strolled into the fire, not a care in the world, like the fire was not even there. The man walked through the hell, buildings collapsing, gas tanks exploding, until he reached a house.
The house already was partially destroyed by what seemed like a meteor. The man sighed and opened the door, then walked inside.
Inside there was a little girl, probably eight, floating inside the room. Pieces of metal and and wood were floating around her, piecing together like a puzzle. It was a real sight to behold.
"Your back," the girl said in a cold, almost robotic voice.
"Yah," the man replied back, a quick and simple answer.
The girl suddenly stopped floating and slowly drifted to the ground, the items around here clanking as they hit the ground.
She then turned to face the man and surprisingly, she had a beautiful face. Her skin was pale and her hair was silver, dropping down to her hips. Her eyes were white as snow and she was about 4 and a half feet tall. She had a doll-like, lifeless expression on her face, it like she was emotionless.
"Well, lets go," she said, as she started floating things into her bag with the strange power of hers.
"Yah, I guess."
"So where should we go," the girl asked.
"I don't know, anywhere?"
"Wow, I thought you were suppose to be the expert here."
"Shut up, okay? I don't. But at least I know more than you."
"True, fair point."
"So, any ideas."
"Like I said, you are suppose to be the expert here. Plus, it does no even matter anymore."
"Yeah, your right. This world has gone to hell."
And with those words, they left the house.
Second later, the house started to sink into the ground as a sinkhole appeared and started to suck everything into it.
"Well, there goes that house," the man said as he looked over his shoulder.
He turned back forward and with a little girl hovering above the ground, they walked into the fire, seeming like they got consumed.
