XC-72-Hour-Jam

LETS FLUFFING DO THIS

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Haley Lee sat in her office, writing up a report on the latest death that had occurred in Site-27. There wasn't a lot to write. On February 7th, 2018, Eric Bernard, a fellow researcher on Site-27, was found dead in the middle of a corridor. That was it. That was all the information they had managed to gather in the last three days. Haley sighed, looked down at the report, checking it for errors, then turned and opened up the file marked "Recent Casualties."

There were too many.

Over 80 people had been found dead on Site-27 during the last month. At least 20 of those people had died this week, and there still wasn't a single piece of information on what killed them, or how. But you know what killed them. After all, you were there, you watched it happen, you made it happen.
None of the bodies had any sort of injury on them, and by all accounts they were in perfect health. Even the cameras were unable to provide any evidence. Perfectly healthy people just…died, in the middle of the day.

Haley slid Bernard's report into the file, paused, then pulled out the file and laid it on her desk. She opened the file, and began to read through the reports. There was no point, they all said the same thing. To her though, it was a matter of respect, a way of saying that they were still looking, still trying. You don't have to look anywhere else Haley, just turn around. All you have to do is turn around, and then you'll know what killed them, then you'll remember what killed them.
She did this every day, sometimes twice a day. She remembered them all so well. Her fellow researchers, various site managers, hell, even a few D-Class she had seen maybe once. The memories were vivid, always at the forefront of her mind. But everyone else seemed to forget after a few days.

She smiled sadly as she read through the reports, memories of each person bursting into full bloom.

Casualty Report
Name: Brandon Sullivan
Site Occupation: Researcher
Date of Death: 1-16-2018
Time of Death: 4:48 PM 11:27 AM
Cause of Death: Unknown It was me.

Casualty Report
Name: Andre Johnson
Site Occupation: Assistant
Date of Death: 1-17-2018
Time of Death: 2:27 PM 1:11 PM
Cause of Death: Unknown It was me.

Casualty Report
Name: Shannon Bruce
Site Occupation: Assistant
Date of Death: 1-17-2018
Time of Death: 7:28 PM 4:01 PM
Cause of Death: Unknown It was me.

Casualty Report
Name: Beverly Bass
Site Occupation: Researcher
Date of Death: 1-18-2018 1-17-2018
Time of Death: 1:07 AM 11:36 PM
Cause of Death: Unknown It was me.

Casualty Report
Name: D-77283
Site Occupation: D-Class
Date of Death: 1-18-2018
Time of Death: 3:21 AM 2:34 AM
Cause of Death: Unknown It was me.

Casualty Report
Name: D-77212
Site Occupation: D-Class
Date of Death: 1-18-2018
Time of Death: 11:07 AM 8:54 AM
Cause of Death: Unknown It was me.

You need to stop, this isn't getting you anywhere. Just turn around, I promise you all the answers you seek are right behind you.
Haley sighed, leaned back, and rubbed her eyes wearily. She hadn't been getting a lot of sleep these past few nights, she didn't think anyone had. She stared back down at the reports, not thinking about anything, until a knock at the door startled her out of her stupor.

"Who is it?" she yelped as she jerked upwards, scattering papers everywhere and knocking over her pencil jar. She frantically tried to organise the mess she had just made, but gave up when the door opened and a young man walked in.

"Yo," Researcher Larry Alexander announced as he walked through the door and sat down on the edge of her desk, "I got the latest report for you. This one came with a video and everything."

Haley looked at her hands. "Another one?" she inquired quietly. Turn around

"Ya better believe it! This one happened just outside your office, halfway down the hall," Alexander exclaimed. "It's fresh too, only about three hours ago." Turn around

Haley glanced up at the clock on the wall. 5:47! She had been filing the report on Bernard at barely noon! She must have fallen asleep while reading through the reports. She cursed herself quietly, but figured if this was the first time someone had come in nothing too important had happened.

"You seem to get all the good reports lately," Alexander continued, "I swear you have some sort of connections or something. You wanna hook me up with whoever it is givin' you—"

"How many is that this week?" She interrupted, "How many times?"

Alexander jumped slightly. "er, how many what?" he questioned, "How many times have I asked you about this? Maybe three, but I don't see why you're so upset abou—"

"Not that," Haley demanded, "How many deaths, this week? Haha, you don't rememBER? You, of all people, hahahahaha, turn around already
Alexander looked down at the report as if he had just realised what it was for. "Twenty-six," He whispered, "That's twenty-six dead so far this week… how did I… twenty-six…" He slowly stood up, "I'm… gonna go see if they need me anywhere." And he walked out of the room.

Haley sighed again, she couldn't blame him for being so jittery, they all were. She reached over and pulled out the video tape from the earlier incident, slid it into the computer at her desk, and hit play. She opened the file and started reading it over, glancing up at the screen just often enough to avoid missing anything important.

"Another D-Class," she muttered, "D-77335, hmmmm, I don't know much about her“ Yes you do, of course you do. I'll make sure you do
She felt a harsh pang in her, she remembered D-77335 so well. When she had first been assigned to Site-27 D-77335 had been the one who showed her around. They had spent the first week together, and even after Haley's job started full time, they had still tried to find time to go drinking together. Damn that girl could drink, she would drain shots like they were water and never seemed to get hungover for it. You remember now, don't you
With tears in her eyes, Haley looked up from to file to the computer screen. She knew what was coming, and she didn't want to see it, but her job demanded that she had to watch. Her conscience demanded that she had to watch, to find some clue, some little piece of information that could be used to avenge her friend. You won't, you know you won't. But you don't need to look, all you have to do is turn around. Then you'll know.
But it was no different from any of the other videos. Everything was normal, and then D-77335 just fell, like a puppet with her strings cut. There was no exclamation, no sign that anything was wrong, she just fell over dead. And everyone else just kept going about their business. Haley slumped back in her seat. Nothing. There was nothing here that she hadn't already seen a dozen times before. She closed her eyes and tried to stop herself from crying, one of her closest friends, gone, just like that, without anyone even stopping to help her.

Wait.

Haley jerked upward. She frantically rewound the footage until just before the moment of death, then hit play. Sure enough, D-77335 fell to the ground, dead, and sure enough, nobody stopped to help. Nobody even glanced down at her body as they walked past. Of course they don’t, she doesn't exist to them.

Haley jumped out of her chair and dove into the filing cabinet, pulling out all of the recordings of previous incidents. And played them all one by one. Turn around

Nobody noticed. Nobody ever noticed. The bodies weren't found until hours, days after they were killed. Nobody saw them, nobody noticed until they tripped over them or something. Nobody could see the dead. Turn around
Unless they forgot they had seen them. Turn Around

Haley sat back down, and watched the times of death over and over again. Something. There had to be something that she could see. There had to be some unifying factor in each of the tapes. Turn Around

There it was. Turn Around

In the corner of her eye. TURN Around

The dark shape. TURN ARound

A lost memory. TURN AROUND

A stolen memory. TURN AROUND

Haley could no longer ignore the pounding in her head. The voice was screaming at her to turn around. She slowly stood up, and, smiling, began to turn around.

There it was. The object. The thing that nobody else knew existed. The thing that nobody else could know existed. It had stored her memories so she wouldn't be suspected, and now they all came rushing back.

She remembered Brandon Sullivan's terrified eyes, as she had chased him down a stairway. She remembered the way his blood seemed to glow in the dim fluorescent lights. She remembered how he didn't scream, not once, only whimpered.

She remembered Andre Johnson. She remembered dragging his broken body down the corridor. She remembered how much he begged for his life. She remembered taking him apart, all while keeping him alive as long as she could.

She remembered Shannon Bruce. She remembered how the girl had suspected nothing as she approached her. She remembered the shock in her eyes as a blade was driven through her heart. She remembered the pathetic gasp of surprise that escaped her as her lungs gave out.

She remembered Eric Bernard. She remembered how he had fought frantically. She remembered how she had tied him up, and cut him open. She remembered how she had pulled out his organs, and crushed them in her hands.

And she remembered D-77335. She remembered her screams, oh, such delicious screams. She remembered the way they reverberated throughout the building. She remembered how she begged those around her for help. She remembered the hope going out of her eyes when she realized the didn’t notice her.

She remembered everything about everyone she had toyed with, everyone she had killed. And she remembered how good it felt.
The door opened behind her.

"Hey," Alexander said, looking up, "They sent me back up here to see if—"

The last thing he saw was his associate’s twisted smile, and the nothing she was swinging at his head.

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