Regeneration

Prologue

Barcelona NewsCast 2025

"Isabella Anderson is the nineteenth person to go missing in the last month, adding to the string of mysterious disappearances in the city of Madrid. We urge citizens with any information on these individuals to come forward. In light of these disappearances, persons are encouraged to be vigilant of their surroundings in carrying about day to day activities."

...

10:27 p.m.

Location: Madrid, Spain 2030

Despite it being mid-June, the air was cool. The man slid his hands into his pockets as he walked along the pavement. Most people had made their way home already. The only racquet that came at this hour was from the local pubs.

He scanned his surroundings, studying the faces of each passer-by, one particular gentleman catching his attention.

"I think I have something," The man said under his breath.

"Alright, follow him, keep a safe distance." Someone replied in the earpiece he was wearing. 

The agent blended into the shadows as he trailed his target for a few blocks. He slowed in front of the pub the gentleman entered. Looking up, the flickering neon sign read Jaxx's Bar & Rest. A bell rang above the door as he entered, the scent of nicotine and spirits hovered around him as he walked inside.

His eyes surveyed the room before he walked up to the bar. "I'll have a beer," he nodded at the bartender. 

"I haven't seen you in here before handsome," The bartender said in a sultry tone as she popped the cap of the beer bottle. She handed him the beer.

"I'm just passing through," The man picked up the bottle, taking a swig of the beverage as he inconspicuously glanced at the man he followed in. He appeared well put together in the way that he carried about himself. 

The sound of a glass bottle smashing drew the man's attention. 

"That's enough Howard!" A male bartender pointed a warning finger towards the drunken man, "Get out of here, look at you man."

"Fine, I-I'll take m-my business elsewhere," Howard drawled as he stumbled out of the pub.

"He does this every other Friday," The bartender shakes her head. 

The man at the bar took note of the put-together gentleman's departure moments after Howard left. 

"Can I get you anything else hunny?" the bartender asked. "No, that will be all," the agent dropped a couple of bills on the counter and left.

"Don't you want your change," the bartender yelled after him, but he was already out the door.

Now outside, the man looked both ways, catching a glimpse of the gentleman turning down an alleyway.   

It was just after midnight now, there wasn't a soul out, only the odd car passing now and again. He continued to follow the gentleman, keeping at an unseen distance. There was a brief ruckus, then silence. Staying in the shadows, the man watched as the gentleman slung a clearly unconscious Howard over his shoulder as if he were helping him.  Taking him towards a car parked on the street, the gentleman popped the trunk and threw Howard in. 

"We got him," The agent said to the person in his earpiece.

"Are you sure this is our guy?" 

"Positive," the agent replied keeping his eyes trained on his target, "Run this plate."

"We're sending support for you now Romero."

Not long after a black SUV pulled up down the street from the suspect's vehicle, which was now parked in front of a warehouse. 

The agent fastened his bulletproof vest and checked his rifle's clip, "let's go," he signaled his team. 

Swiftly, they all moved into position around the warehouse, moving in with caution. 

"No one in the trunk," another agent informs.

The team bashed in the door, the agents pouring inside. There was no immediate sign of life, only a few shelves and boxes filled the space. 

"Help!" 

Without wasting a second, Romero took the lead, heading down the flight of stairs to where the cry for help seemed to have emanated.  Descending into a dark basement, he flipped his rifle light on, casting the beam of light around the area. He found himself in a corridor. Both walls were lined with doors. Hearing movement coming from inside one of the rooms, Romero moved slowly towards it.

"This is over, come out with your hands up," Romero’s firm command bounced off the walls of the corridor, echoing.

No response.

There was a small square window in the door. Romero flashed his light into it, a young man slamming his body into the door at the sight of the light.  Romero quickly moved to the next door, flashing his light inside. This time a woman banged at the glass.

"We found them," he said looking back at all the doors that lined the corridor, "I think we found them all."

The agent stepped towards the door, trying the handle.

An unnatural growl echoed from within the tiny space, causing the agent to halt his action.

His brows drew together in confusion as he took two steps back. Whoever was inside started trashing against the door. 

The sound seemed to signal the others who were behind the other doors. A chorus of sickening growls and banging filled the space. Something was wrong and he knew it. Why weren't these people begging to be rescued or trying to speak to him. They just continued to growl and trash around like rabbid animals.

The corridor was suddenly illuminated by a flashing red light. 

"Everyone fall back," he spoke into his earpiece, "I think he's done something to them."

The raucous sound of a buzzer blared from an overhead speaker, followed by the sound of every door clicking open simultaneously.