NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 3: Gathering Information.
September 2184. Copper 9 Surface. Remains of Outpost 24. Thirty minutes after landing.
Jason stood at the base of the blast doors as floodlights illuminated the snow-covered outpost, casting long shadows over the jagged terrain. The SEAF had set up a perimeter, ready to secure the area and gather what little intelligence they could. But there was an undeniable weight in the air—this planet had seen death, and whatever lingered might still pose a threat.
Claw marks raked across the blast doors in erratic streaks, deep gouges that told a story of something vicious. Dents marred the heavy metal, and no human could have bent them like that. Jason's grip tightened on his AR-23P. He knew better than to assume the dead world was harmless.
"Sir, you might want to take a look at this."
One of the soldiers waved him over. He approached, weaving through the scattered debris toward a cluster of SEAF personnel examining the ground.
"What've you got?" Jason asked, crouching down.
The soldier pointed to a twisted mess of cables. "Power cables, but they're shredded. Looks like an animal got to them, but... whatever did this was strong. The steel is bent like it was nothing. The cables were buried deep, sir, and it's not natural wear and tear."
Jason scanned the wreckage. "What about power inside?"
"Backup systems tried to kick in, but there's not enough juice left. The infrastructure's too degraded, but even that brief pulse was surprising. The systems are ancient."
Jason stood up, eyes narrowing at the ruins of Outpost 24. "No data, nothing salvageable?"
The soldier shook his head. "Not from here. We could follow the cables to their source, though. Might lead us to a facility that still has some intact systems."
Jason glanced at the surrounding terrain. The outpost had been bombarded—orbital strikes had hit this planet with unrelenting force. "They wanted this place dead, and they made sure of it."
"Set up a drone to follow the cables. Let's see where they lead. And sweep the area again. We're not leaving without answers."
The team nodded and set to work. Jason walked away from the wreckage, heading toward a clearing where more soldiers were gathered. Skeletons littered the snow, the remains of a battlefield long gone cold.
"What do you have for me?" Jason asked as he approached.
One of the soldiers gestured to a row of bodies laid out on a black sheet. "Sir, these bodies... something tore them apart. No heads, no arms or legs intact. And this one... its spine was severed clean."
Jason cursed under his breath. "That's not a good way to go."
"It gets worse," the soldier continued. "Shell casings all over the place. Panic fire. They were shooting at something... something fast. And look here—claw marks. Whatever they were facing wasn't playing by our rules."
Jason frowned, glancing back toward the outpost. "I saw the same marks on the blast doors. This wasn't a battle; it was a slaughter."
This doesn't match anything in our records from back then," the soldier added. "The Illuminate would've kept their distance. The Cyborgs relied on firepower from range. It could be the Bugs, who swarmed in numbers, clawing and biting, but there's no record of them ever being here. And if these creatures were connected to them, then it doesn't bode well for us. The Terminids are the stuff of nightmares—mutated and adapted over the last century. They wouldn't fight like this."
Jason sighed, the tension settling in his chest. "Bag them and do another sweep. We're leaving nothing behind."
"Yes, sir."
As Jason made his way back to the outpost, he saw the door being fully opened by a team, exposing the interior. The cold, lifeless structure loomed before them.
"Did you get the power connected to the monitors?" Jason asked.
"We did," one of the soldiers confirmed, "but it's mostly static. We picked up a brief recording though. Sounded like it was triggered just before the power went out."
"Let's hear it," Jason ordered.
The team set up the remaining equipment as Jason entered the central control room, dimly lit by emergency lights. They patched into the audio system, and the crackle of degraded speakers filled the room.
The first thing they heard was heavy breathing, followed by distant gunfire. Static buzzed in and out, and then a frantic voice screamed through the distortion.
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!"
More banging. Desperation.
"IT'S COMING! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!!!"
Gunfire echoed through the recording, accompanied by the sound of something wet tearing. Screams cut through the noise, followed by a sickening giggle—high-pitched, synthetic, almost playful.
"This game of tag was fun..." The voice was unnervingly calm, with a female tone but distinctly inhuman. "Your friends back there... they played too."
"FUCKING MONSTER!" another voice screamed, followed by more wet, visceral sounds—flesh and bone being torn apart.
"Let's see what's inside you," the female voice continued, delight clear in her words. A horrified scream followed, punctuated by more unnatural tearing.
The recording spiraled into chaos as the voice chanted, faster and faster, almost incoherent.
"Let me in, let me in, let me in, letmeinletmeinletmeinletmein—"
The audio cut out abruptly, leaving the room in deafening silence.
Jason's jaw clenched. "What the hell happened here…?"
"Sir," one of the soldiers spoke up, his voice shaky, "permission to step outside for a moment."
"Granted," Jason muttered, his mind reeling. Whatever had happened here, they weren't alone on Copper 9. Something still lingered, and it wasn't finished playing.
Edited thanks to ELE73CH.