Sergeant O'Brien died on the chair; the others barely made it out.
The team swore something was in there, in the Ether, a black hooded creature.
I trust the guys; they are seasoned enough. We came to realize that when a soul is translating through the Ether, anything is possible.
It was a standard Op, track, review, submit. The coordinates were nothing unusual, still on Earth.
The three viewers, O'Brien, McTavish, and Ling, progressed normally, all in their rooms, relaxed in their chairs, each with their navigators sitting beside them.
The navigators spoke out the coordinates, then the viewers translated through the Fade into the Ether. The location was Scotland, ten years previous. It was winter, snow-covered the Highlands, and night was falling fast.
Something was different; something was off. As the cottage came into existence, each member mentioned a heavy pressure, pushing down on them.
They had felt this before, in war-zones, back in the three-dimensional world. Each of them knew that feeling was a warning; do not progress further.
It was the Ether, though; in their celestial bodies, nothing could touch them, no one could see them.
As they entered the cottage, they no longer felt alone — a feeling not of the metaphysical realm.
A black door appeared; this was new. No one in the Program had come across this before; it was utterly abrupt.
Then a thing manifested from the door, a tall blacker than black hooded figure. Its arms elongated towards us. O'Brien froze, they all froze.
The creatures long fingers grasped O'Briens arm, then after a few seconds later, he screamed. His arm began to burn, dark smoke raised from the creature's grip.
Ling and McTavish snapped out of it. Ling attempted the tackle the creature while McTavish grabbed O'Brien, but it was not enough.
Ling was thrown through walls; the air walls felt like someone blowing upon your face.
The lead navigator quickly gave coordinates to rally at, his voice heard throughout the Ether.
O'Brien was out cold, so McTavish lobbed him over his shoulder and began translating through cold mountains, trees, and rivers, all passing through them like nothingness.
Ling was racing right by his side; once at the RV, they began to make their transition through the fade, though they claimed they could still feel the presence of the creature.
Back in their chairs, and into their physical bodies, their hearts were still racing, on overdrive. Sadly O'Brien did not make it.
It's unknown how he died, how his soul was burnt. The team knew that without a soul, the physical body is a mere empty shell that equals death.
Viewing was on hold until the Program could figure out in more detail what happened.
That's when I was called; I was somewhat familiar though in a different context to what went on. I would enter the Ether and face it. My task, capture, or kill.
My name is Father Quinlan, and I'm an Exorcist.