FSE

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The sound of heavy boots filled the otherwise silent night a hundred well organized men and women in matching uniforms descended upon the abandoned manufacturing plant in a forgotten part of rural chicago. Nobody had worked in the defunct factory for nearly a decade but there was still activity recognized from surveillance. The problem with satellites was that everything looked the same what could be conceived as an armed guard could be a homeless man with a ratty vest. That was why the commander and his troops were needed when suspicions were roused. Boots on the ground had been the turning point in every major conflict since the dawn of time. Even through the advent of machines of war there was always a need for well trained soldiers. Good men and women who risk their lives to protect those that either can't or won't do the same.

Though these soldiers were not apart of any standing nation's military or any private military contractors. These were soldiers who had existed in the background of society for eons, ever since the first men walked upright, because where most fantasize about the things that lurk in the shadow that humanity cast on the world, these men and women knew all too well what dwelled in the shadows and it scared them into action. This was humanity fighting back against a foe that would never be defeated until the entire species was wiped out.

Dust covered the walls and ceiling of the plant. Caking the machines like a fine film freezing time in place at the very moment the industry crashed and caused this and many plants like it to fall into stasis. The saddest thing about an entirely empty building was the atmosphere, it was almost suffocating with a foreboding sense of isolation, this building did not feel isolated. Instead an intense wave of malice and hatred washed over the soldiers as they loudly surveilled the plant surging inside.

"East clear, west clear, top clear, back clear, north clear, south clear." An assortment of voices came over the dry radio finished by a short burst of static. The man holding the radio looked into the darkness and furrowed his brow pulling down his cap. The commander was the most experienced of the men and women he had brought. He knew the thrill of victor as well as the bitter taste of defeat and today was starting to sit on the sour side of his pallet. "Commander?" The radio jumped to life again asking for input.

"Stand down, immediate threat level reduced to white, continue searching for any clues, bring in forensics and prepare to evac in twenty." The commander sighed feeling that this was another dead end. The threat that he and his elite soldiers were hunting was not likely to be caught even in the dark of night. They never slept and were always one or two steps ahead of them just by the nature of their being. They were elusive and that kept them alive. It was clear that if their intel was right then they had run long before they even had boots on the ground. "Damnit." The commander kicked the dusty floor sending a cloud of dirt into the air. He watched as the dust particles float effortlessly and drift back down like microscopic snow. That was when he noticed something odd, the dust didn't settle back down, at least not immediately it wavered for a bit like something very faint was moving it. Crouching down onto his hands and knees the captain ran his finger along the ground and a smirk formed across his lips. "Every squad convene on the main assembly line, bring the Helios." The commander issued the order and the sound of shuffling boots once again filled the night. He had found what he was looking for at least, possibly.

Men shouted from outside as the machine was set up in pieces each one as valuable as the other. Once all the squads had converged the Commander reached onto the floor and gripped an invisible handle with his fingers, digging them into the seemingly solid concrete. The soldiers watched with anticipation guns at the ready. The commander counted to three slowly on his other hand raising a finger for each count. On three he jerked back flinging the secret compartment door open sending dust flying into the air and slamming the door onto the floor with a loud echoing thud. Once the dust cleared he removed his flashlight and turned it on bringing his eyes to focus on a set of stairs leading down into a freshly constructed facility beneath the factory. His smirk grew into a smile and the soldiers nodded in agreement, they had finally found something.

With the confirmation the Commander gave the order to activate the Helios and the night was banished as blaring bright sunlight filled every corner of the auto factory like a wave. It touched every corner and illuminated the entire building as if a bomb of light had gone off. It also illuminated the stairs leading down into a subterranean floor. The commander went first walking confidently with the light at his back casting a monolithic shadow as he walked down the stairs with deliberate pauses to check for sounds of activity. The building was surrounded from all four sides and the roof and each of those sides was pumping helios light into the building meaning nothing was going to slink away today.

Confidently the commander walked into the hidden basement expecting to see the worst. What he discovered did shock him but not in the way he expected. Beneath the factor was a single room. It stretched out through the entirety of the factory but it was a single room with only one door. The soldiers swarmed in like ants collapsing on the room sharing reactions of shock and horror. There were bends placed in a line each bed had stirrups at the feet and handcuffs at the head. There were buckets that reeked of waste and fluids and shackles on the wall with corpses still attached. This was standard fair for the monsters that the commander hunted but still a few green horns lost their composure and looked away, they would have to be reprimanded later, still the captain searched.

This cell of some kind didn't have a clear purpose. They checked each bed and corpse but nothing in this room was alive in any sense of the word. There were no discoveries to be had here. This was obviously an abandoned nest with those victims left to taunt the commander and torment their pursuers. The commander let out a defeated sigh and turned to direct his troops to leave but very faintly he heard a muffled sound coming from the room. He paused and turned around in a full one hundred eighty degree spin charging towards the back of the room. There was a young woman who looked to be about twenty or so years of age chained up. She was still fresh if you could use those terms. Upon inspection she had been sanguinated like the other victims but something seemed wrong. It was then that the commander noticed what exactly he heard and it filled his face with horror. Inside of the woman's corpse there was movement, from the abdomen. The commander took a deep breath and removed his combat knife from its holder carefully holding it ready to defend himself. The muffled sound was very weak but he could hear it perhaps better than any of the soldiers because he knew what that sound was. It was crying, it was a child crying, and as improbable as it seemed it was a baby crying. Taking his knife he dissected the corpse carefully keeping his wits about him. The stench of rot and decay filled the room as the woman's abdomen cracked open like a turkey and she was carved open. The commander withdrew his knife and paused holding his mouth with his clean hand. He thought he was finally going crazy but as always he was right. Inside the womb of the dead woman was a living infant, wailing for food and care, like any normal infant would except in the most wrong place. It baffled him how this child could be alive but it was more trouble about what to do with it than what it was.

Protocol was to treat everything in a Den like it was a threat and to dispose of it with prejudice this included surviving victims, artifacts, and of course children. The commander had a soft spot for kids but these things couldn't make children so that meant that this was something more sinister than even he could imagine, to think that a degenerate monster would turn a child. That didn't make sense either the child was completely in the womb with the cord still attached, it defied all reasoning except that somehow this unborn child was indeed itself one of them. Taking his knife and severing the cord the commander took the infant by the leg and lifted them upside down over the 'mother' curiously examining it.

"What is it commander?" One of the soldiers asked nearly startling the commander. Carefully the commander considered how to respond to the question and decided that the best way to answer was to show the soldier what he had found. Taking his pistol he placed it to the infant's head and pulled the hammer back. "Commander?" The soldier asked confused but still observing.

The gun clicked and nothing happened. Both the soldier and the commander looked at the infant with bewilderment. There was no possible way that this child was not one of them, but their only way of dealing with the monsters had no effect on the child so that left two options. Either this child was a new breed of monster resistant to their weapons and if so may god help them all, or miraculously, this child was the luckiest infant in the world. With no recourse for the first option the commander made an executive decision placing his pistol back in the holster and gently placing the blood soaked child in his arms cradling it, still hearing its weak crying. The baby was alive but it was terribly emaciated, deprived of nutrients from its dead mother for who knows how long. "It's a boy, a lucky boy." The commander answered and the soldier nodded in utter confusion.

The official report for raid A-14 was that the site was empty and the targets had fled. The commander never reported the child that he found instead taking him to an orphanage that he knew of who would take the child. The commander often frequented the orphanage during the holidays to play his part as Father Christmas. He didn't know who this boy was or who that woman was but he did know that being far away from him and the life he lead was ultimately what would be best for the boy. The orphanage was happy to take him in but were not convinced that he would live longer than a few weeks given his physical state so they agreed to offer him hospice. The commander submitted the paperwork for the boy giving him the unofficial name of Lucky Boy, which the orphanage took to calling the mysterious child as John Doe seemed a bit cliche.