Of Monsters and Humanity: The Corruption

Chapter 1 - Terra

One hundred, fifty-five days before....

The news station blared.

"Presidents and leaders around the world are discussing with the United Nations tonight on Dr. Alvah Balcom's concluded and disturbing research with the United States District of Health and Medicine's 'Operation Alphabetum,'" a man in a pressed black suit reported. There was a grim expression on his face. "We will report on their conclusions later tonight as soon as the meeting comes to a close. As stated earlier in this international broadcast, this is only one edition of the series of meetings that have been going on since The Revelation on January 10th of this year. My colleague stated prior that Dr. Alvah Balcom and heads of United States government do not plan to stop Operation Alphabetum now. 'Research is almost concluded,' Dr. Balcom spoke in an interview with us two days ago. 'Projects Y and Z have yet to commence.' He warns citizens of the world to believe in the United States and the research he has yet to conclude. Back to you--"

I switched off the television in disgust.

There had been a change in the tone of the newscasters in the last four months. I had noticed it, and so had my grandparents. There had been so many changes. For one, there was a catatonic, sterile tone held by everyone when mentioning the deorum, even Dr. Fahim and General Byligan who had yet to come into contact with any wendigos after The Revelation four months ago. The Coexistence had been trying everything to get into contact with any of them, and they had been breaking their backs trying to hack into any and all Operation Alphabetum servers. Since The Coexistence was based in Canada, and everyone who came from Project X (which was only one sect of Operation Alphabetum) had either supposedly died or escaped oblivious to the Russian attack out to kill "Experiment X" (a wendigo named Xander), we were not tried with the treason that they threatened to sentence us with if we went against Project X--or, rather, Operation Alphabetum and its head, Dr. Alvah Balcom.

"Sick man," I cursed under my breath as I turned another page of Aristotle's "Nicomachean Ethics." Laya sat below me on the floor of the living room, wagging her tail and chewing on a pair of my socks. She had ripped a lot of my socks to shreds, and I eventually donated some of them towards her playthings. Laya had a lot to do as a guard dog, and especially a lot to do with General Byligan's flared nostrils at my decision to choose her, the only trained German shepherd puppy with three legs, over any of the other dogs.

I reached down and stroked her soft fur, then grabbed a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl next to my legs on the comfortable couch. I popped them in my mouth and continued to read in the easy silence of the condominium next to my grandparents'.

I loved my house, as I had nearly decorated and furnished the entire thing. It was clean, quiet, safe, and enough room for myself. The two bedroom, two bathroom, modern condo was everything that I ever dreamed of. I respected Dr. Fahim and General Byligan's executive decision to allow me to live on my own. They told me that I was dealing with a lot of confidential Coexistence material, and they did not want anyone seeing what they had me working on.

Dr. Fahim and General Byligan, the collective head of The Coexistence, kept me busy. I worked with Dr. Fahim on The Department of Ethics for how the operation would be run once the deorum (wendigos and indigos) realized that we existed and were out to help all. General Byligan had me trained as a field agent, working personally with Lieutenant-Colonel Channing Vallen. He had become a little more personal over the last couple of months, though.

While they kept me busy, I also kept myself busy. Though I had my grandparents safe and with me on The Coexistence's first boarding ground (which honestly felt more like a vacation spot or a luxury condominium neighborhood than a military boarding base) at Fort Pacem, the base for The Coexistence in Canada, there was a lot of emptiness. I missed Flora Mae, my best friend of five years (and the closest thing I ever had to a sibling). We hadn't spoken. I wouldn't blame her for not trying to contact me after my picture was displayed all over the American news as an international criminal. Even if she did try to contact me, I wouldn't have received it. She and the American government were after Abigail Egan, a girl who did not exist anymore. She supposedly died during the explosion at the Project X facility while she was interning, but then she was searched for by the American government.