The Fire

My name is Lee Shepard. I am a scientist who works in Facility 731. Here we monitor 'it'...the fire. The first time I saw the fire was when I started working there. After signing the NDA, my boss, Mr. Swindell, gave me a tour of the facility. He was a bald Black man, somewhere between his late thirties and early forties, with a sharp goatee that framed his stern expression. His sleek black suit, paired with a crisp red tie, gave him an air of authority and precision. He moved with a calm, deliberate confidence, his eyes sharp as he surveyed the sterile halls of the facility.

The halls of Facility 731 stretched out like a labyrinth, narrow and sterile. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sickly white glow over the concrete floors. The walls, painted in pale grey, feel close and confining, their bare surfaces reflecting nothing but the sound of your footsteps echoing into the distance. Every corridor looks the same—cold, silent, and empty, except for the occasional hum of machinery from behind thick metal doors. There were no windows to the outside of the facility, other than the ones in Mr.Swindell's office. I didn't know what to expect that day when he brought me to see the project I would be a part of. I thought it would be the usual things such as plants, animals, and whatnot. We went through the all-white automatic doors, that led to a room where many scientists ran around in their lab coats, busy with work. There was a giant glass window that you could immediately see when you walked in. Around the glass, some monitors sat next to each other hugging it. And there was a scientist at each one.

"So, Shepard, this is where you'll be working," Mr. Swindell said as we entered the room. "This is Project Prometheus. You'll be monitoring what we call the fire of humanity. While you're observing the fire, you'll also be living here. Your quarters are located in the lower levels of the facility."

"Yes, sir... but what exactly is the fire of humanity?" I asked, confusion clear on my face. I had never heard of such a thing before. What could this 'fire of humanity' possibly be? I wondered.

"Follow me," Mr.Swindell said as he smiled. We walked towards the giant glass window. I looked down and saw the fire. It was a monstrous flame, looking like a giant had made a campfire or something. It was beautiful yet frightening. Why is there a fire this big? How did it get this big? Questions ran through my mind quickly as I analyzed it. The gigantic fire flickered gently, casting long shadows across the pitch-black room it was in, like reaching fingers.

"What is this exactly, Mr.Swindell?" I said with my eyes fixated on the fire.

"This is the first Fire ever lit by humanity. From the data we have gathered it is around 1.5 to 2 million years old. 100 years ago, a group of archeologists found the fire in a cave in Kenya. Through a lot of extraction procedures, we were finally able to move it over here. The fire didn't start out as big as it is now. We have no clue why it still burns after so long...We didn't want to risk it ever going out, so we tried adding sticks to the fire to keep it going. After a long time of just using sticks, it seemed like the fire became more dim. That led to us using other things to fuel the flame, such as gasoline, and lumber. But those didn't work for too long. That led us to experiment a little with it. We started to put various things within it, like animals, and food. The fire began to grow ever since then." Mr.Swindell said as he was also fixated on the flame.

"So you guys have been using Animals? And food? How could those things ever be able to keep a fire going for this long? Do you guys use anything else?" I replied, now with my eyes on Mr.Swindell.

"Haha... yes, we do use other things. We've found that the fire likes humans... but the dead kind. We never use live subjects. Mostly fatalities from war." Mr. Swindell spoke with a nonchalant look on his face, his eyes now locking with mine. As he stared at me, a sharp, cold shiver ran down my spine. I couldn't find the words to reply, my mind racing. I struggled to keep my composure, searching for something—anything—to say next.