2005. Sunny with scattered clouds. Bright. Leaves rustled with the wind, trees creaking and swaying. Under a small tree, stood a man. A man filled with anger and sadness. He is over two graves, staring down at them. One tombstone was in the shape of a cross, while the other one was rectangular.
Meghan Marie Cross
"A beloved daughter. May she rest peacefully"
September 22, 1997 - June 13, 2005
Addison Marie Shultz
"Mother. Wife. A Charismatic Friend. She now rests"
February 3, 1987 - June 13, 2005
An excavator was behind him, its scoop resting on the lawn. Matthew stood there for another moment. Looking back over his shoulder, he simply nodded. That was the signal to the excavator operator to begin digging.
Approaching the graves slowly and cautiously, the bucket plowed into the ground. It scooped up its first load of dirt. Matthew took a couple of steps back from the excavator, taking his phone out of his pocket. The screen turned on by itself. The background wallpaper was a family picture. Himself, Addison, and Meghan.
Guilt. Upset. Heartbroken. Feeling more empty than ever. Memories and pictures were all he had left of them now. While he was still employed by Sahara Therapeutics, they discovered an ancient artifact. After studying its inner and outer workings, it was given a name: the Obelisk. Tests followed, starting out with small animals like raccoons, lizards, and rabbits. Those experiments were all a bust.
It was Matthew that suggested experimenting on humans; more specifically the natives to the island. If animals don't work, then humans must, right? No one will know until the theory is ruled out. The project remained top secret and classified. Only high-clearance officials had clearance to read the unredacted documents. Matthew was among those with high-security clearance.
THUD!
"Sir. Might want to take a look," the man told Matthew.
Matthew looked up away from his phone, turning his head to look over at the man. Slipping his phone back into his inner coat pocket. He walked over to Meghan's grave, peeking down into the 6ft deep hole. He had opened the top half of the coffin, leaving the bottom half-closed. Withered flowers, worms, and various other bugs inhabited the empty coffin. With Addison being buried next to the empty grave, these bugs must be attracted to her rotting flesh stench or something.
"Has this been dug up before?" Matthew questioned as he pointed down at the casket.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Cross," he answered, "this is the first. Hasn't been dug up since the funeral."
How could it be that the casket is empty? Where'd her body go? Is she still alive perhaps? These are questions that needed answers. His curious questions were starting to make him believe that Meghan is still alive; somewhere out there. If that was the case, where is she?
Later That Year…
4:30 a.m
Matthew was standing out on the boat deck of his yacht. His yacht was anchored in a small cove located on the northwestern side of the island. Accompanying him on the yacht was another man. His name is Armaan; a long time friend of Matthew Cross.
"It's going down fast," Matthew said as Armaan walked over to him. Matthew was using binoculars to get a better look at the sinking ship.
September 3, 2005 is the date. The time is 4:30a.m. The skies are clear, but have occasional cloud cover. It was a calm night, with the ocean being fairly cooperative with Matthew and Armaan's plans. After returning to the island after Sahara abandoned it, Matthew resumed experiments on human anatomy. With that, he needed test subjects.
With the alien-artifact disabled and destroyed by Sahara, Matthew had other ideas on how to get what he needed. Using the radio on his yacht, he communicated with passing ships. Tankers, Cruise ships, small fright ships, and even fishing boats.
Three miles off shore, there was an underwater reef. A rocky reef; a deadly threat to anything that floats.
"This is the S.S Wisconsin," a voice broadcasted over the frequency, "we've struck an underwater reef, listing dangerously to starboard. Requesting immediate assistance, over!"
Armaan looked down at the mobile radio. It was on the deck next to Matthew. As he was looking through the binoculars, Armaan kneeled down to grab the radio. As he reached out to grab it, Matthew pulled his pistol out of his holster; cocking the trigger.
"Don't!" Matthew said as he rested the barrel of the gun on Armaan's forehead. Armaan raised his hands and stood back up.
"This isn't what you told me we'd be doing," Armaan said, "this wasn't the deal."
Matthew sighed, lowering the gun and releasing the hammer and slide on the back of the gun. He put it back in the holster.
Present Day
Sahara Therapuetics Research Facility
"You're not going to get away with this," Natasha shouted from inside a containment room. She pounded on the glass wall and shouted repeatedly. But everything she did, Matthew ignored. The lights were on. Matthew was wearing his white lab coat, but it didn't have his last name on it. It was another person's last name.
The female cannibal Natasha had encountered earlier, hoisted an obliterated male body onto the metal table in the middle of the room. His insides were ripped out, his arms and legs missing, and his head flattened like a pancake.
Another cannibal, a tall muscular grey male, pushed a metal cart over to the side of the table where Matthew was standing. He turned around and clapped his hands once.
"Ahh, good. Thank you M," he said.
Natasha stood in place, staring out the glass wall at Matthew. She didn't know his true identity yet. She only knew him by what other people were calling him: the Red Man. The containment room she was in was dark and small. There was a bucket in the corner that reeked of urine and feces. Water was dripping from the ceiling. A puddle formed in the middle of the room because of that.
"Dr. Matthew Cross," a female voice said from somewhere in the room. Natasha turned around to see who had said that, but she couldn't see very well because of the dark. The only light penetrating the room was coming from the lab on the opposite side of the glass wall.
Blood spatter had covered the majority of the glass wall from the otherside. Streaks of dried blood ran down from ceiling to the floor. There wasn't much clear spaces to peek through. Chunks of intestines, and other flesh pieces stuck to the wall with the dried blood.
"Who–who said that?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms and squinting her eyes.
"Does it matter? We'll all be dead soon anyway," the woman said.
"What's your name?" Natasha asked.
The woman talking to Natasha scoffed. Sounds of bones cracking and joints popping were heard as the woman approached Natasha slowly. The closer she got, the clearer her physique got. Of average height and slender this woman was. Her head was crooked, her left eye missing. Her hair frizzly, poofy, and stiff. Her nose was gone, the bone visible for all to see.
Wearing just a dark blue tank-top, the woman wore no pants or undergarments. She was basically naked. Natasha took a step back, resting her back up against the wall.
"Please, don't come any closer!" Natasha begged.
"I won't bite," she responded, "Vega."
Natasha sighed as she wiped sweat from forehead, cheeks and nose. The room was warm. Having no power meant no air conditioning. It wasn't just the room that was warm. It was warm throughout the entire facility.
"What the fuck!" Natasha shouted and gasped. "What… are you?"
Vega was a mutant, just like the others. Instead of two arms, she had four. Instead of two legs, she had three. She constantly shook and twitched.
"Isn't it obvious?" Vega said.
"Why lock you up then?" Natasha asked.
Vega turned around, having her back facing Natasha. Her two left arms twitched, as did her head. Natasha waited for her to respond, but while doing so she experienced sudden pain her her stomach. She rested her hands on her stomach, but felt something moving around under her skin. Pulling up her shirt, she looked down. Vega turned around to face her again.
"Ooo, he infected you too?" Vega questioned as she took a few steps closer toward Natasha.
From the left side of the room, a sliding door had opened. It made scraping noises as it opened. Vega turned her head to look over at the door. Banging noises echoed as she walked over to the place where the door was. It was located at floor-level. The banging stopped, and the door made scraping noises as it closed.
"Feeding time," Vega announced as she rushed over to where the pile of food was on the floor.
Food? Natasha thought mentally to herself.
As she walked over to Vega, she looked down at the floor. This was not the food she had envisioned there'd be. It was body parts of past victims. Body parts that the Red Man didn't find useful to him. His mutants craved human flesh. So that's what he fed them.
CRUNCH! CRACK! Vega looked over to her right at Natasha, picking up a hand with her right foot. She lifted her leg to give Natasha the hand.
"Eat," Vega said.
Natasha covered her mouth as she gagged. She slowly backed away from the pile of human body parts. Arms, legs, feet, and fingers made up the pile of food. She backed up into the corner of the room, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor.
Vega continued to eat as Natasha sat in disgust. Nauseous, frightened beyond belief, and depressed. She had momentarily forgotten about the pain in her stomach. But it didn't go away. Whatever it was moving around under her skin, it continued doing so.
"The pain will subside," Vega said with her mouth full, "then your transformation begins."
What she said suddenly peaked Natasha's interest, but not in a good way.
"You were once like me, weren't you?" She asked Vega.
"Don't know," she said. "He only allows us to remember certain things about our past. But it's only what he wants us to remember."
"He wiped your memory?"
"Mmhmm, I only know his name because he wants me… well all of us really… to know his real name. The last thing I remember is being injected with some sort of surem. After that, whoever I was before this is gone… gone forever."
Interesting, Natasha thought.
The thought of having her memory wiped scared her. If she let him do that to her, her former life would be forgotten. Her family. Her friends. Society as a whole. Everything would be awash. She couldn't let it come to that.
"How many of there are–," Natasha said as she suddenly froze. Her body suddenly became stiff. She stopped breathing and began gasping for air. Vega looked over at her, continuing to feast on the bloody arm she was eating.
"It's happening," she mumbled in amazement. She didn't react in anyway. Eating was her main focus right now. But she did watch Natasha's transformation process begin.
Her bones began cracked. Her arms twitched, her ankles twisted. Blood seeped through her shirt as it stretched outward. Her head tilted to the right as teeth began piercing through her cheeks. They were pointy and sharp. Standing up, she twisted back and forth. The shirt ripped apart, revealing what was under it. One of her eyeballs popped out of its socket, dangling by its optic nerve.
When her body stopped transforming itself, Natasha sighed a heavy sigh of relief. The pain was intense. She had lost a-lot of blood but was still awake and aware.
"Natasha?" Vega said, "hey. Natasha?"
She dropped the arm she was eating, walking over to Natasha. She was sitting in the corner of the room. Leaning closer to Natasha, Natasha opened her eyes. The transformation had given her an additional arm, sharp and pointy teeth, and a third leg. But her third leg hadn't formed properly, causing only the top half of the leg to form. Her skin had changed colors, now matching Vega's skin color; gray.
"Are you–," Vega said as Natasha suddenly grabbed her head with her three hands. She hissed and growled. Then she twisted and snapped Vega's neck. Her body collapsed to the floor. CLAP, CLAP, CLAP. Natasha heard the clapping, leaping up onto her feet. Then turning around to look at the glass wall.
On the other side, Matthew was standing. He was clapping slowly with a smile on his face. On her hands and feet, the witch stood next to him. She laughed and pointed at her; looking up at Matthew.
"Finally," he said, "look at her. She's perfect."
"Perfect, yes," the witch cannibal said, followed by her high-pitched witch laugh.
"Wickedly crooked, wickedly beautiful," Matthew mumbled, "she'll fit in well with the others."
Elsewhere on the island, not too far inland from the ocean, Joseph and Talen had come across a village. The houses were made of hay and wood and sticks. The hay was used for the roofs, with the wood and sticks being used as support. There were suitcases scattered all over the village. Bodies of past victims hung upside down on the tree in the middle of the village. Tennis balls were stuffed in their mouths, with their hands tied behind their backs.
To their surprise, the village looked abandoned. Nearby, there was a massive pile of skulls on the ground. Effigies littered the surrounding landscape. Their primary use was to scare off any enemies or other cannibal clans. Joseph and Talen had no knowledge of other cannibal clans. Hell, they hadn't the knowledge of what threats lingered. They've only encountered the mutant Cowman and Albino Cannibal.
"Let's find whatever we can. I have this feeling the village isn't abandoned."