This story is not fiction, or maybe it is, it''s honestly up ,for you to decide what you believe in life, I''m not the thought police.


    I sometimes have problems believing any of it myself so I won''t fault you. My name in this case is not too important to the progression of the story or to anyone else, so you can call me Green.


    Before we begin I have been advised by my therapist to add a trigger warning, just in general, because of...everything.


    I worked for an international, non government affiliated militarized organization that I''ll refer to as The Trigram Agency. .


    Not really worked for, more like "Belonged to" if you want to go into semantics. It''s where I, and so many others like me grew up.


    The Agency specializes in the Elimination and imprisonment of people, entities and objects that threaten the common good of the human race.


    I am telling you this, because I know that, even if you don''t believe me, my account of events will at least be found interesting.


    It all started in 2005 when I was 11.


    My mother had taken me to a new elementary school in the city of Hurst in Texas, mom wasn''t able to work because of her bad legs, so we went where section 8 took us.


    It was a pretty standard school, i started my year by ingratiating myself to my teachers as usual and I had already started making friends.


    All was good for about a week, then the doctors came.


    Around about lunch time, in November, a man in a white suit took me from my class under the pretense that he was my family doctor, telling me that my mom had scheduled an appointment and couldn''t pick me up, he even had my home address and a copy of my mom''s driver''s license as proof.


    He never brought me back.


    What happened next would literally take up the rest of my life. I was one of five hundred thousand children that the Trigram Agency forcibly kidnapped and signed on to a program they called JAB or Junior Agent Bonding.


    sounds benign doesn''t it?


    You see, The Trigram Agency usually recruited soldiers out of various militaries or independent Mercenary groups when looking for Agents. These didn''t last long, either because of death due to ill preparedness or lack of commitment to the Agency''s objective.


    Because the Agency mainly tracks and eliminates targets that fall under 1 of 3 categories, Cultists, Creatures and Artifacts, and some people find that too intimidating I guess.


    The JAB program was designed to:


    A. Create loyal Agents that would be desensitized to the otherworldly nature of The Agency''s work


    B. Foster deeper, more familial bonds between Agents from a young age, assuring that abandonment would not be an issue.


    C. Create a better soldier, one completely indoctrinated to pursue the mission above all else. That was stronger, faster, smarter and more stubborn than your average mercenary.


    I assure you that it worked, the disgusting pigs got what they wanted.


    But at such a cost? One has to wonder if it''s really as effective as Director Manning said it was.


    in the beginning, I along with the rest of the JAB candidates were shipped to the Appalachian mountains to a secure facility where they told us we would, in all likelihood, be spending the rest of our lives.


    Our clothes were taken and we were given green coveralls, some boot socks and lace up combat boots, after that we had our heads shaved and were covered in delouser.


    Our orientation started with something that resembled the old fitness pacer tests combined with Presidential Fitness day back at school. Assessing our physical condition, our endurance, our strength and agility while also running us until we physically couldn''t anymore.


    I remember only tripping up once after one of the guards pulled out a baton in response to a kid who refused to run. He was ten and I don''t believe he had ever been commanded to do anything in his young life. I couldn''t look away as the guard proceeded to beat the Child, The first two hits eliciting a scream which got everyone''s attention, the next few silencing the scream as the entirety of the group looked on in absolute horror.


    The guard just kept beating away a the kid''s head, he kept beating until the kid stopped moving, and blood coated the man''s Face, his baton, and spattering the walls and floor. I couldn''t believe it, I could only stare, and when one of the guards shouted at me to keep moving, it was all I could do to obey.


    After the fitness test we were put into groups of 5, each group was taken to their own room in a separate wing of the massive underground facility, that wing would be our world for years to come. Even now, all these years later, I can still hear water rushing through the pipes that lined the ceiling of the main walkway of of the residential areas.


    Sometimes I go back there in my dreams and as I hear that familiar gurgling, a horrid fear grips me, that I never really left and that all of my progress since then was in my head. But then I wake up and scream with relief, because for some reason these dreams make me hold my breath.


    we were allowed free reign of designated areas such as the residential and training areas, however, we had to be supervised if we wanted to go get food or walk around areas closer to the surface like the classroom sections, or the administrative offices.


    When I inquired about the strange plastic boxes I saw every few miles inside the facility, I was told by a guard that they were sealed weapons lockers, scattered around the facility, placed in strategic places much like one would do with a fire extinguisher. we were also heavily discouraged from trying to take from these, being that all of them were locked via biometric system and could only open if and a staff member used his or her thumbprint, I assume this information was shared early due to some of the early JAB candidates trying to rebel, although most of us just fell into line, I was glad for the reminder.


    After we were all assigned bunk areas, these were large living spaces that were occupied by an un-walled bathroom and a bunk bed, The researcher that had lead us there told us that we would be participating in various training exercises and classes, using as little detail as he could before leaving, slamming the door as he did.


    I looked around the room at my new friends. one of them, JAB--76843, a boy with black hair, glasses and brown eyes I would later call Agent Edge, was just staring at the wall, the rest of them looked as terrified as I felt.


    Other than him there was JAB--76844, a pretty Blonde girl who wpuld later be called Agent Love, JAB--76845, A young Chinese/samoan girl who would be called Agent Wolf, and JAB--76846, a taller boy who looked Hispanic who would be called Agent Ripper, we were one of the only eight groups that actually survived the JAB program.


    Over the next few months we would be trained in Military and Agency Exercises by veteran personnel. Protocol on Mondays, learning how to handle certain situations and the right equipment to use in each. Things like "what kind of relic or holy symbol is most effective against what subtype of Homo-Sanguisuga" (the Latin name for Vampire) or "how to escape a pocket dimension you''ve been trapped in" (The answer is Find the Totem).


    Or my personal favorite, "how to tell the difference between a Clown and a Klounh." (both are pronounced the same and the only way you can tell the difference between the words is on paper, hint, one of them is a human in a costume and one is a member of some ancient race of monster.)


    However once you meet a Klounh you will most certainly be afraid of clowns for the rest of your life, as the only way to establish observation of a differentiating trait is an up close encounter. no. thank. you.


    Combat was on Tuesdays, we started out with basic techniques, weapons training with some big Russian woman who worked us like we were grown ups, of course at this point most of us were too numb and disillusioned to even be called children anymore. Alena was a cruel taskmaster, making sure that blood was drawn in each training match even when nobody had purposefully hurt anyone else, throwing uncooperative JABs to the floor or into walls when they talked back to her.


    Finally, after a enough of the squads became somewhat adept at weapons and combat in general, mine included, they held these "culling" matches.


    During Culling, groups were pitted against each other for what we assumed was the sport of our captors, but actually it was to put us on a combat ratings chart in order to assess what they called "Combat effectiveness" which would dictate to them how ready we were for the next stage of the program. We would not be able to leave the room unless the other team was killed or incapacitated.


    Much to our horror, the incapacitated JABs would be put down anyway, once we learned this, we stopped trying to spare them. This continued until the number of JABs had been reduced from 499,000 to 600


    On Wednesdays we had what was essentially our one restful day before we began again on Thursday, it was also known as Hygene day, every bunk room would have to be cleaned, every head re-shaved every germ scrubbed from your flesh, and there was only one shower room to spare amongst what could have been, at some points, hundreds of JAB candidates.


    There was more blood shed in that hallway than there ever was in the arena, because if you were caught without having cleaned yourself that day, they sprayed you with dry powdered soap and de-lousing powder, scrubbed you down with steel wool and washed you off with a hose.


    Im not saying my group won every fight for that shower, but we were all S class on the Culling fight charts, we were up at the top of the foodchain in those halls.


    Breaking off THIS depressing subject, lets move on to the next, one, shall we? I was talking earlier the next phase of the project. This was the part where the "Soldier" part of the program came into play.


    After the the doctors had made sure we were two sheets to the wind with Trauma, 4 of us, picked out of the remaining 600 JABs because of our high combat scores.


    We were each, subjected to a form of Brainwashing I later learned they referred to as the "Other self" procedure.


    As if that wasn''t enough torture, they began to pump all JABs full of what they called "Neutral Protocells" which would change us in horrific ways.


    The "Other Self" procedure was confusing for me to grasp when I looked at it later, only because it seemed like pseudoscience. Using odd tonal frequencies and some sort of gregorian chant recited over lound speaker in the conversion chamber, the Trigram Agency somehow took a subject''s disassociation state and turned it into a completely different person, in this case the other personality would be a soldier, plain and simple.


    This is where I got my code name, Green, it was not a name I had chosen, rather something my Other self had chosen. When Green "Took the Wheel" as I understood it, I could see what he saw, I could hear, smell and feel, but I couldn''t control anything I did. It was at this point that I just surrendered to it, because there was literally nothing I could do, I had this murderous monster living in my head that I could do NOTHING to stop.


    On to the Neutral Protocells, the higher you were ranked on the culling chart, the higher a concentration of cells you got. I was told they''d "Make us better", but what I saw them do was something else entirely, my group, called Group sigma, because we were all rank S, got the highest concentration of cells possible along with the other 3 JABS submitted for the other self project, we had to be kept in the infirmary wing for an entire week while the horrible little things did god knows what to our bodies.


    we all had extreme amounts of muscle, bone and skin enhancements that were extremely painful to live through, although I''m just glad we weren''t like a few of the other groups, who had all mutated to death, decreasing the number of JABs down to about 450.


    As our mutations became more evident, Agent Edge began to develop unfoldable sticky pads on his finger and toe tips as well as saliva that, if left to dry, would become an extremely powerful adhesive that lasted indefinitely.


    Agent Love developed monstrous strength that if used without caution, tore her muscles and broke her bones, each muscle able to dish out over 800 PSI of force


    Agent Wolf gained Permanent Night vision so powerful that she had to wear dark goggles to protect her eyes from any ammount of normal light.


    Ripper''s hands became deadly to the touch, halting and ceasing the metabolic process of any living creature he touched.


    and I, for some reason, developed regenerative abilities including HemoGenesis, osteogenisis, neurogenesis, accelerated DermaGenesis and a nigh impenetrable immune system.


    I know what you''re going to say, "That doesn''t sound too bad." and at first it doesn''t, but they began to test us. My team endured horribly traumatic testing, Edge was made to flee up walls to escape attack dogs and spike traps. Love was made to break increasingly harder targets over the course of months, each time breaking her hand, but breaking the target every time, regardless of rigidity or structural integrity. Wolf was made to navigate a trap laden maze in darkness used for sensory derivation.


    Ripper''s and my tests, I feel were the worst, They asked him to pet a dog they had let into the chamber. The dog was super friendly, it seemed like it could be someone''s dog, very affectionate and happy, and it died in his arms after he finally gave in and ran his hand across its head.


    Suddenly, instantly, so quick was the cessation of life that it was still warm when he held it, crying that he didn''t mean to. After the test, he never took off his gloves ever again, not even when he was ordered to, they discontinued tests on him soon after. The only reason his disobedience didn''t get him killed, was the unique nature of his ability and the low number of JABs in general.


    My test involved propane and fire.


    I walked into the test chamber, directing my attention to the two way mirror, behind which I knew the researchers sat, Green was in control and we BOTH knew what was going to happen, but Green did not panic, he smiled as the voice rang over the intercom, "Agent Green, brace for test 1-a" Green let out a haughty laugh and spread his arms in a gesture of overconfidence, "I''m as braced as I can be, let ''er rip." The jets came on in the room, I smelled the propane, that smell would later induce panic attacks and fight or flight responses for years to come. I heard the electric click of the sparker and the entire room was engulfed in flames, I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, but Green just stood there with his arms out and his eyes screwed shut until our eyelids burned off and our eyes were burnt out of our skull. It wasn''t long till our knees gave way, and we fell to the floor.


    I woke up unable to see, moving was pain, Green was dormant for now so I was left to bare the agony myself, I couldn''t hear, I couldn''t smell or taste, everything was just pain.


    I remember FEELING the flesh on my forehead attempt to grow back three times, the first time it died and peeled back into what I could only assume was where my eyes were supposed to be, the second time it scabbed up and broke apart somehow, finally, I felt cool air on my skin as my body slowly rebuilt itself from scratch. Eventually my eyes returned, but just as slowly as everything else, so when I was able to see the first instinct was to rake the back of my hand across my face to rub whatever it was out of my eyes, I ended up tearing off the scabs that had formed over my eye sockets and the pain of that, made me pass out.


    As the years passed (2 of them to be precise) we became closer as a unit, working better together, sharing more feelings with one another and doing our best to be better, if not to others, but to each other as we battled other squads for survival in the ever present culling tests, always there was a heavy death toll, we worked together to make sure it was never on our side.


    The whole time we were doing this, the Agency was lacing our food with all sorts of chemicals, made to keep our bodies running at peak efficiency and keep our mutations working as intended. at some point they just stopped trying to hide it and straight up gave it to us as a creamy, cold purple beverage that they called B-207 (shit was delicious) however as a nasty side effect, it pushed us deeper into puberty than we were meant to be at ages 13-14.


    Case and point we began to experience strong yet unfamiliar feelings and sensations, leading to fighting, destructive bouts of depression and general inefficiency.


    I remember the inexorable draw to my female bunkmates, not knowing exactly why I felt the need to be so close to them or why any physical contact with them felt like heaven, scared that I might hurt them or myself, I reported it on our bunk''s computer, and was told to standby.


    Apparently it wasn''t just us, because shortly after this began, the Agency organized a class about sex ed where they described in detail the feelings we were feeling and the ways we could alleviate the stress (complete with diagrams)


    Im not going to sugar coat this bit, because in my many attempts to recount this, I''ve always altered it some way.


    But today facts are facts.


    they encouraged us to get intimate with each other, as long as it didn''t effect our classroom and battlefield performance. preaching even, that it may improve team synergy. they even went so far as to add that the mutations we''d undergone had sterilized us, making it safe for everyone.


    And so, with the assurance of the people in charge that it would fix things, we dived into it with the abandon of children in a candy store. The feeling of sex was so incredibly addicting, we didn''t want to stop. There were no boundaries between genders or sexualities, it was pure stress relief and bonding, as horrid as it sounds.


    My first few intimate experiences were bouncing between Wolf, Love, Reaper and Edge in a frenzy of hedonistic experimentation, rewarded and reciprocated by each individual, each trying to get their relief from the other.


    And really, this new coping mechanism did its job at the end of the day.


    Our team grew closer, a bit too close if I''m being honest. My therapist calls it a "Codependency" which, after looking up what that is, makes sense.


    We were more tight knit than before, galvanized by our attachment to eachother, and I swore to whatever powers there were, that if anything happened to anyone in my crew, I would burn this facility to ash.


    But that''s how they liked us, compliant and deadly, with very few conflicts between us after the fact.


    Speaking of conflicts, disagreements within our unit were commanded by the higher ups to be settled with physical (non deadly) violence, the loser had to apologize, no matter how right they felt. This lead to many a strength based heirarchy amongst the JAB populace, and suddenly I''m reminded of that story about the captive wolves and the misconceptions about wolf behavior born from a hostile captivity environment.


    That was us.


    Mostways into the program, they stopped punishing infractions against protocol and staff with physical injury and started simply denying us rations for 3 days, we later learned that the reason for this was that the culling process they instituted at the beginning of the program had worked too well and our generation of JAB agents had whittled its way down from thousands into the low hundreds now.


    It was Green and I that had the bright idea to steal rations for my crew.


    As i got better and better at it, It was often expected by some members of my crew to recieve an extra MRE as a romantic gesture from myself or another crew member.


    However, after a while of watching the other squads suffer, I also ended up stealing rations for other crews, as I was the only one at the time who knew about the security blind spot in the leftmost corner of mess where they brought the food in from the outside, the others gave us things in return, books, spare supplies, ammo requisitions, stuff of that sort.


    This singular advantage didn''t last long and eventually food was being stolen en masse by other JABs who decided to spy on me while I made supply runs.


    It would be much later that I discovered the higher ups meant us to steal when taken from, it was another sick test of our survival instinct.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    I hated this place.


    But we wouldn''t be there for much longer.


    We had just finished monday protocol, I had come back to our bunk to find a letter. I''m not sure from where, or how it got into our bunk, but it read like this.


    Dear Agent Green


    I know the Trigram Agency has stripped you of your real name, and any chance at a normal life, I represent an Organization in the same field as the Agency, however as you know, their methods have become a bit extreme, the JAB has to end and I think you know it does, tomorrow at Lunchtime, all weapon stations will have their thumbprint registries scrambled, which means that ANY print will open them, this will be your chance to escape, my men will be waiting in the wings to aid in that escape.


    yours truly


    \-MAL


    now this was an incredible revelation. something to hope for, something both I and Green were suspicious of. His own budding plans for our escape were not very well rounded and this MAL seemed like he or she had a much safer alternative. Green agreed, however, being an egomaniac, he also decided that he would present the plan as his own. Agent''s Love, Edge, Ripper and Wolf all listened in while Green pitched it to them.


    Edge spoke up, "how the hell do you know all this, Green? how do you know the weapon stations are going to scramble? who told you?" Agent Edge had been named our Recon and espionage guy by the supervisory echelon of the Trigram Agency, a responsibility he took too seriously when presented with stuff like this. After Edge''s reaction, Everyone eyed us with suspicion and I decided to come clean, over time I''d learned how to cut off Green''s control if only temporarily, it helped if he was focused on something else. It''s strange how differently they looked at me as opposed to Green, he was always so dominant that when I was in the driver''s seat it was painfully obvious.


    "I got this letter you guys." I took it out and handed it to the group, to much cursing and angry words from Green inside my head. Edge looked vindicated as he passed the Letter down to Ripper, "Fucking knew you didn''t come up with that one yourself, geezus Green we have an actual lifeline here and you''re wasting time trying to convince us it was your idea?"


    Green took back control and snorted at Edge, "Fuck off." Wolf shushed us, "Silence man children, I''m 78% sure that this is probably a trick." She had become the mother figure of the group as well as it''s leader, as she had beaten all 4 of us at punchies and had been labeled in a support capacity by the higher ups, viciously but caringly enforcing her strict codes of conduct on the rest of the group, she was our voice of reason, and we respected her for it.


    Ripper spoke up, but because his voice never really seemed to crest over a harsh whisper he had to announce himself twice before we were able to hear him. He, like Love and I had been designated for Heavy combat, or at least that was before Ripper vowed to never take off his gloves again, he was a huge teddy bear, but one you dared not hug without protection, poor bastard. "I feel like it''s worth a shot." He said, looking at the letter himself.


    Love, ever the enthusiastic but simultaneously deadly Ditz, still lounging half naked in Edge''s bunk under the covers, her wavy blonde hair parting as she turned towards us and nodded her head fast and enthusiastically, "I agree with Ripper, we need to move and soon, plan or not!"


    That was when the drone of the "Bell" sounded, that was the 5 minute warning to get ready for class, for us today it was combat.


    Goodie.


    we all scrambled to get dressed in our gear as Edge checked team statistics on his PDA.


    here is where I bitch about requisitions.


    everyone in the squad had zip up Kevlar plated coveralls. BUT ME. I was told by the equipment requisitions officer that due to the nature of my mutation, I did not need the armor plating my squad so enjoyed.


    Green would agree with them but I didn''t like getting shot, I didn''t enjoy being burned, I did not WANT to get hurt, but despite all that, I got no plates for my nomex coveralls.


    Green also enjoyed a dismally minimal load-out.


    3 frag grenades, a single Glock standard issue 9mm handgun and a guard-less straight sword. Green LOVES his swords, ever since the fighting instructor took a liking to him, tutoring us privately after class in the "Art of the blade" can you tell how done with his shit I am? especially in a firefight situation like the one we were going into.


    after we were all relatively armed to the teeth, Edge stopped us, "Guys, I have some good news and some bad news."


    with that, he touched the screen of his PDA and an image appeared on the wall, group sigma and group alpha were the only two groups left.


    everyone else was labeled "Terminated" or "Sanctioned"


    Love gasped and giggled giddily, "We''re the last ones left!" Then she realized what that meant and she started crying,"We''re...the last ones left.." Ripper grabbed her and pulled her into a hug as Agent Wolf squared her jaw, "Well shit...this either means their project was a wash or a complete success, i''m not sure which."


    Edge coughed and then looked at all of us, "well whether or not it''s a wash, we need to beat group alpha, my PDA won''t give me their stats, I can''t make a strat..." he started to frantically type out a request to the admin on his PDA but it shut down automatically and he threw it against the wall, destroying the device, "THIS IS MY JOB!!" he started to shake, he was so used to us relying on him to keep us alive, "I''m supposed to be the one who''s ready..." Green was beginning to panic, we began rapidly shifting foot to foot as well when Wolf stomped her foot and the entire room went silent, "We''re going to make it out of here and we''re going to have to do it without a plan, we''ve never had to do this before but maybe this is another test."


    deep down I felt very secure in my belief that we were all going to die, but after all we''d been through, Wolf had hope for us, we all stood at attention, ready for her next order.


    "Green." Wolf turned to me, "you improvise all the time, I move leadership of this squad over to you for this mission." Green was unable to speak as everyone clustered around me.


    before I could say anything, the bell rang and a voice sounded over the intercom, "ALL JAB AGENTS WILL REPORT TO DESIGNATED LOCATIONS OR OCCUPIED UNAUTHORIZED SPACES WILL BE FILLED WITH POISONOUS GAS"


    we booked it to the arena chamber where a guard let us in, the floor of the arena would change depending on what program was running, the way it was now, it was like an obstacle course but it wasn''t? it''s hard to go into it, the point is that it was a controlled environment that was made to look and act like any arena type the administrative staff wanted, whether or not this was achieved through some sort of Holographic or other such science fiction thing, it could put you on the slope of a volcano, or on the moon, it could do ANYTHING they wanted it to, and this time it was a misty forest in the dead of night.


    As soon as we were inside the room, the door shut behind us and it was like we hadn''t even come from anywhere, just standing in the dark woods in the middle of the night! As we got our bearings a loud electronic voice blared as it always does, announcing the terms of victory and any environment hazard we would be facing.


    "FINAL SKIRMISH BEGINS, CONDITIONS OF VICTORY: Subdue or slaughter ENVIRONMENTAL HAZARD: TEMPORAL SHIFT"


    I hadn''t a clue what any of that meant, but in the time it took me to turn to Edge and ask, just like that, my team was gone.


    "GOOD LUCK." and with that, I got shot through the kidney by someone just beyond the trees!


    Green kicked in and he rolled us to the left behind a tree, he pulled out one of his grenades and held it to his chest before shouting, "HEY!!" I groaned internally, what was he thinking? the guy wasn''t gonna, "YEA?" I nearly laughed, it sounded like a small girl, "DON''T SHOOT I SURRENDER!" Green yelled, The little girl let out an unsurprisingly cynical laugh, "That''s a lie and you know it, poke your head out!"


    The following internal conversation went like this,


    Green: I''m gonna poke my hand out, it''ll grow back anyway.


    me: no you''re fucking not! because it won''t hurt you, it''ll hurt ME!


    Green: I need to get a bullet trajectory, then I can blow her ass up! it''ll grow back anyway!


    Me: oh like you can do math!


    Green: I may not be good at long division, but I can calculate throw distance all damn day, you''ve been with me through all my training! it''ll grow back anyway!!!


    me: if we get out of this I swear to god I will let you feed me our own shoes!


    with that, Green cracked a smile and waved his left hand out from behind the tree, and as predictably as water is wet, a 50 caliber bullet shredded through my palm and rendered my hand useless, almost as useless as my right kidney!


    Green then spun and lobbed the Grenade, bouncing it off two trees before it hit a third tree mid trunk and exploded.


    the little girl had this to say, "HA! you missed!"


    Green would normally retort something, I was waiting for it, but he said nothing, "Dude she just set you up for some grade A comeback, what-" he shushed me and suddenly I heard it, the sound of splintering wood, illusory wood chips flying apart and disintegrating and a child screaming as she fell out of a falling tree, landing with a grunt on her back on the ground.


    Green rushed out, stepped on the rather impressive Barrett she had been wielding, and pointed the sword at her, she wasn''t as small as she sounded, she looked 12, one year younger than me.


    "Do it, pussy." she growled as Green raised the sword.


    I would have stopped him, but I knew all the reprimands and screaming in the world would do nothing to stop the arc of that blade, for all our time spent finding common ground, one thing I could never agree with is that he enjoyed killing far too much, because in his mind, the moment someone tried to kill us, they stopped being a they and became an IT, removing the human part from the mental equation, making it less about "why kill." And more about "How kill."


    he brought the sword down into her skull, impaling through her forehead, the blade traveling unimpeded out the rear of her head and into the dirt, I felt my face and chest hurting from how hard he was laughing.


    After his manic moment, he pulled the sword out with a sickening slurp and wiped it clean with his sleeve, "Cake." He chuckled, almost in spite of my disdain.


    suddenly Edge crashed into me, knocking both of us over, "OH SHIT....Green??"


    we both got up, he was holding a broken looking Love over his shoulder, both her arms were swollen, bruised black and hanging limply at odd angles, she was in tears, "fuck me right? I just wanted to help."


    Edge sighed in relief as I took her, "We''re being chased by...something, I''m not even sure what it is, whether its one of team alpha or not..."


    Green raised his eyebrows, "The fuck do you mean you''re not sure, if it''s hostile it has to be one of them!"


    Edge sighed, "I don''t think its that simple, It looked like something...else..like a Tangible."


    Green and I both look around, "What do you mean?"


    Love scoffed and winced, "Did you not pay attention in class, Genius?"


    Green waved his hands, "I didn''t mean like what''s a tangible, dumb ass, how big was it?"


    for those of you who aren''t in on the whole "Lingo from a super secret monster hunting Agency, the term Tangible and Intangible were used for supernatural creatures both material and immaterial (if you couldn''t already pick up on that, i''ve been told its kind of obvious.)


    Edge jostled Love a bit too much, Love complaining as he raised his hand far above his own head, "Taller than I can reach."


    Green looked at Love''s arms, "I''m guessing she got these fighting it off?"


    Love whined, "No, it threw me and I hit a tree..."


    Green blinked, "Just your arms? I don''t think that''s how that works..."


    Edge growled, ''It''s just how it happened alright Green? stop being an asshole, come with me, I know where the others are."


    Edge didn''t really like Green, but in these situations he was usually more worried about us than angry, and Love wasn''t acting like...Love, but I followed them, keeping an eye on the pair, they were acting a bit off and I hardly believed Love''s story about the reason for her arms breaking, so I began to scan for signs.


    this is where it gets really weird, because in the Agency, we have certain nonverbal means of communication, a way to get info to one another without talking or even really being there.


    These Field signs are actually derived from the more popular hobo signs, and every JAB Agent is made to memorize these.


    I eventually did find a sign, low on a passing tree trunk, just out of eye shot of Edge, it was half a rectangle with a squiggle line inside it.


    this sign specifically means, "Do not trust them." and beside it was another sign, a stick figure with an X through it''s head, meaning "It is not human." and under both was a sign that showed a large u shaped squiggle that meant "Hostile being."


    Knowing that all he had to do was act, Green drew his gun silently, aiming it at the two impostors that we''d been following, that''s when I heard a silent whimper, Green wheeled around and pointed the gun directly at a big kid, about the size of Reaper with hulk-like proportions, muscular and large. he looked slightly older than me, his eyes were full of tears, the gun in his hand hung loosely at his side, "Your friends are unconscious over there by that tree...I drew the signs."


    as he pointed to the tree who''s roots seemed buried in leaves, one question came into my mind, "Why?" the kid dropped his gun and fell to his knees, "I''ve-" Green pulled the trigger, ending the boy''s life, I stood there in shock as Green checked the clip and re holstered it, "WHY?!" I yelled in desperation, Green sighed exasperatedly, like I''d asked him the most idiotic question, "He was stalling, did you notice how he made really convincing illusory copies of Edge and Love? I wasn''t about to wait around for him to tell me his life story, let''s get the others."


    I walked over to the tree the boy had indicated and pulled my two unconscious teammates from the leaves, "I can''t leave them but I can''t carry them with me anyway..."


    suddenly Green just dropped them and walked about ten paces away, then pulled out another of his Grenades with our one good hand, flipping the pin off with his index finger.


    "Green what the fuck are you doing?"


    "There''s someone here."


    "HOW the fuck did you hear anyone and I didn''t?"


    suddenly Green hiked up one of his legs and dropped the Grenade, he crab walked away as I looked down to see what looked like a puddle of goop forming directly underneath us, two pitch black hands clawing their way out of the nebulous void that had at one point been solid ground.


    I watched in horror, Green in elation, as the final member of the enemy team clawed his way into the open air.


    his skin was a black glistening slop, his limbs were long and spindly, ending in sickle shaped claws, dripping with black slime, all I could see for sure of it''s face was this thing''s horrifying smile, toothy and pale, glinting in the moonlight given off by the artificial moon that now had chosen to come through the clouds.


    the grenade went off and the shrapnel from the frag rocked the frame of the creature, but it didn''t move from where it stood.


    Out of frustration, Green drew his sword and raised it above our head, yelling in pain as the creature grabbed our right arm in a slimy, nasty, vice like grip. Green was about to throw the injured hand in a desperate bid to get away, but then our good arm began to sizzle like we''d had acid dumped on us! MY ARM WAS ON FIRE!!


    Green pulled back with a frightened "AAH!" and the arm came loose at the elbow with a ripping, tearing, agonizing, sloppy sounding pop that SHOULD have taken more effort than it did, a small splash of blood spurting from the stump of my elbow. The remainder of our arm in the thing''s hand began to decay before our eyes, the fingers of the hand falling off, dropping the sword as the creature continued to advance on us.


    my mouth hung open in a silent scream, I say silent because after a bit of hardcore yelling or directly after a dire injury, it became hard for me to force air out of my lungs, I staggered away, Green had left me, retreated within to escape the pain. say what you will about his combat prowess, the guy''s a pussy. anyway, after an ineffective attempt to run, I sort of just, fell to my side and curled up around my stump arm, waiting for death.


    I had accepted death at that point, if I couldn''t defend myself, how could I survive in this horrible place, I was ready for whatever came next, my fear had been replaced by pain and all I could think was how easy it would be to just let the nightmare end.


    That was when I heard Wolf, that husky tone that had always made me feel safe, now louder than I would have liked, with a savage snarl mixed in as she bellowed my name, "GREEN!!"


    There was automatic weapon fire and the creature took two steps back, Wolf walked into view with her AR-15 leveled at the thing, more footsteps, more felt than heard at this point, my heart was pounding in my ears. I looked up, there was Ripper, his face was covered in blood, he looked at me with this horrified expression on his face. This expression immediately turned to pure rage as I watched him take off his gloves.


    I grasped vainly with my shredded left hand at his ankle, "NO!" I tried to say, the sound only registering because it came from me, all else was THUMP THUMP, THUMP THUMP as my heart pounded in my ears. he dropped the leather gloves on my chest and stepped over me, showing his hands to Wolf who''s eyes widened under her goggles, she pointed the gun at him, I couldn''t hear either of them anymore, but I saw her repeatedly mouthing the word "no." and brandishing the gun at him, apparently trying to intimidate him into putting the gloves back on.


    he paid her no mind.


    he just kept walking up to the inky black thing with the crooked smile and grabbed it by the throat! smoke rose off of both of them, it grabbed him by the shoulders, it''s claws sinking in. I saw Ripper scream in pain before both of them began to sink into the ground, both their bodies liquefying into the dirt as Wolf and I watched in horror.


    then everything went black.


    what I later learned was a day later, I woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by curtains, next to me stood a tall, beautiful grown woman in a grey suit, her hair was shoulder length and fire engine red, her eyes were silver behind thick lensed glasses, she looked to be in her late 20s.


    "Good morning." she smirked, "I''m MAL, it''s nice to meet you."


    I blinked hard, "What...where am I?" I put my left hand on my head and saw the palm had already healed up and my fingers were aligned again, Mal gave a light sigh as she answered, "You and your squad are in the custody of my employers."


    I nodded, not feeling Green in this situation was super awkward,he usually was the one who did...everything. "so you sent us the letter." I said. Mal nodded, "Yes, I did, except you guys didn''t have to do anything; it turns out the staff of the area had vacated before the final skirmish had ended; we don''t know where they are." I scratched my head, completely numb at this point, I couldn''t even bring myself to cry for Ripper.


    With that, MAL got up and patted me on the shoulder, "Welcome to the Houska Organization. I''ll be back with food in a bit, and we can talk about arrangements for your stay."


    And like that, she was gone.


    Ok because we didn''t figure it out until after we got loose, I want to tell you that this "Houska" organization was literally just Trigram with a fresh can of paint.


    That''ll come back into play later, and I won''t know until much, much later; this is just a hindsight thing.


    It wasn''t exactly ideal, but at this point, we were no longer people, not really. We were weapons, we only needed to be used.


    I''ll try to write some more. Maybe I''ll elaborate on more of my classes/tests from back at the Agency before I talk about our experiences in the "Houska" organization, but for now, I just need to rest after writing this.


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