The M Project

Run. That’s the only important thought in my mind. I can’t let them catch up to me. The horrors that happened back there… I can’t let those things do to me what it did to them.

How far behind were they?

How many of my siblings were gone?

Even though they weren’t officially my siblings, we’d been together so long. It was almost impossible to think of them as anything but.

My legs are burning from the constant running. My lungs are begging for air. It’s been a while since I heard the screams. Or them. It’s oddly silent. I cling to the rigid bark of a nearby tree. The pain of running nonstop finally catches up to me. Multiple cuts on my bare knees and feet sting. I should have at least put some shoes on, but then again, who thinks about shoes when those creatures try to kill you and everyone you know in that orphanage? I remember that being Marcia. She was one of the first to go down.

I look up at the night sky. No stars. I’ve heard of them, and expect to see them every time I would come out in the woods surrounding the orphanage, my home, at night. But they’re never there. It’s disappointing really. The faint glow of the moon in the corner illuminates my path just enough so I can see a few feet in front of me, and the silhouette of trees tower over me.

I remember growing up here as a little girl, and how running around these woods brought me much comfort. But now it’s hard to just take a breather, when there’s an unnerving presence I feel hovering on my shoulder. It’s like someone, or something, is watching me.

crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.

I try not to breathe as I hear something near me. I prayed that I could blend into the darkness around me. It’s a little irrational, but still.

After about a minute, a figure comes walking past me. It’s creeping, as if trying to make no sound. It didn’t work considering that dry leaves covered the ground. But then I realize who it is.

“Mo!” I blurt out.

Mo jumps and turns around, then sees me. “Maureen. Thank goodness you’re alright.”

I step away from the tree. He’s jittery. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“If I’m being honest, no.” He looks away. “I saw things. Not good things. Bad.”

I can’t tell much from the moon being so dim, but I thought I saw a glimpse of red on his figure. He must have been in the middle of it all.

All I can say is, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I don’t know why this happened.”

“And it escalated so quickly too.”

“Yeah. I mean, the lights flickering and going out was kinda weird. Then I went with Max to check it out in the basement, then…”

“The screams.”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

We both knew what came after that; there was nothing to say. It was everyone for themselves really. Then we all got separated. It was chaos.

“Look,” Mo says. “Whatever those things were, we—”

They’re back. The creatures. We both feel their presence. My legs are itching to run again. But Mo just stares back in the direction of the orphanage. I can’t leave him here by himself.

“Mo, we have to go! Now!”

“Maureen, listen to me. I’ll distract them while you go run. It’s what Max did for me.”

“What?”

“Even if it’s a group, they’ll only focus on one person at a time! You need to go, now. I’m not playing.”

I begin to grab his arm and drag him with me. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

He yanks his arm back. “It’s either both of us, or one. I saw things down at the basement. You know how really no one else goes down there for certain things? Well the thing that was down there escaped. There were experiments—”

And that was when I saw the creature face to face. It tackled Mo and he yelled and thrashed. Whatever it was, it looks like a horrid zombified humanoid, if that makes any sense. Mo’s screams only grew louder. My body then decided to take over and start running off.

I hate leaving Mo behind. But like he said, it was either both of us or one. I guess, I was going to be that one. Just like he said.

I don’t know how long it is before it’s quiet. Mo was dead. But I didn’t stop running. The rough terrain of the woods makes my feet ache, while the low branches and rocks make fresh wounds on my bare limbs. The sting tried to bring me down, but I know they are coming closer. I have noticed that they are extremely silent when they are near.

Mainly the only sound is the crunch of leaves as I plow over them along with my rasped breathing. And my thoughts. My very, very empty thoughts. All I can think about is running, and surviving this nightmare. And whatever those things are, they weren’t going to catch me.

But my legs stop. I’m sucking in air by the pound. There was a cliff, and I was standing on the higher end. It couldn’t have been more than nine feet, but it’s still a long way to fall. A dead tree that spews out of the ground promises a safe climb. Well, it’s safer then jumping down to your death.

I didn’t know that I was shaking until I grasp a thick arm from the trunk, and my grip wavers. Wrapping my frame around the branch, my stomach disappears when a crisp snap sounds.

The branch begins leaning forward, my head going first. I scream. An eternity passes before I hit the ground, but at the same time it was like a split-second.

I don’t know what came first. The ringing or the buzzing. Maybe it was all together, mixing into each other. Bringing myself to open my eyes is an impossible task. All I see is fog, or blurriness. I can’t tell. My mind begins pulsing, and not in a good way. It hurts. I just want to stay in this position forever, waiting till all the darkness goes away. But silence soon breaks through all the noise, and reality calls me back.

Sitting up is a hassle, but I manage. I’m almost certain my arm is broken. Or sprained. Same thing with my ankle. Whatever. I rub my temples, trying to find some comfort in knowing that I’m still alive. But it’s also silent, only the babbling of a shallow brook to my left. Every part of me is overworked and overheated. My legs, my lungs, my throat, and now my head is throbbing. Thin streaks of blood flow down my limbs. And when I look back at my hands, they’re covered in blood. That explains my throbbing head. If I weren’t breathing, I might as well be dead.

The rushing melody of the water draws my attention. Using my good arm, I crawl towards the bank. A cool rush dashes through my body, calming me down a little bit. Washing the blood of my hands, I look off to the woods across from the shallow brook. I wonder how much more of the woods there are. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been at the orphanage, and I never dared to go even this far. Not knowing what’s out there is scary enough. It doubles when I remind myself that those things are going to be coming after me. Who knows how far away they were, or rather, how close?

Using only me left arm and my right leg to scoot across the brook — probably looking rather ridiculous — multiple gunshots echo throughout the woods. The screams that come immediately after sound like a distorted dog’s whimper. But there’s still gotta more out there. And I don’t know if the person who is killing them is friend or foe.

I’m at the edge of the brook when a reach for the rocks and… I hit a wall. The scenery that I thought was there, is just a wall. A mix of confusion and fear exploded in my chest as I ran my hands over this blockage. Hollow echoing resonates while banging on it. I’m in some sort of confinement. Then I hear splashing in the body of water. I’m too frozen in place to check who it is.

A whirring from the scenery wall echoes as it slowly retracts open, revealing a bright white light. Inside is a completely white room, with adults with long lab coats and clipboard seem to be monitoring screens on the opposite wall.

Someone’s throat is cleared from behind me. A man standing in the middle of the brook with a rifle in hand is staring down at me.

“Who are you? What is this? Where are the rest of those things?” Questions were spilling out of me like wildfire. “I don’t know what going on. What is going on?”

“Calm down, Maureen.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course we do. We’ve been monitoring you and the nineteen others of the orphanage for the past ten years.”

I open my mouth to ask another question, but he cuts me off.

“You did a good job today. You were the only one who survived. We're surprised.”

“There’s no one—”

“Considering the fact that all of your associates had been given the same training as you, we’d expected more to be here at this moment.”

“Training?”

“But it’s just you. Which is okay, I guess.”

I shift in my position in the water, clinging to my broken or sprained arm, and ankle. I was about to say something, yet the man finishes my sentence for me.

“Come along now. There’s a lot of explaining to do.”