Launch Night - Humanity's Greatest Mistake
The night sky above the military complex was a black canvas, thick with low, restless clouds. Floodlights cast long, eerie shadows across the sprawling field where officials, scientists, military leaders, and media crews had gathered.
Cameras blinked red lights. News anchors whispered rehearsed lines. Drones buzzed quietly overhead, their feeds beaming the moment out to the world — History in the making.
Inside the secure operations tent, the atmosphere was thick with nerves.
The head of the project, Dr. Marcus Vane, adjusted his tie with trembling fingers, trying to mask the weight pressing against his chest.
Across from him, President Eleanor Voss studied the glowing screens, her sharp eyes betraying nothing.
"You're certain this will work?" she asked, voice low but firm.
Dr. Vane nodded stiffly.
"Madam President, after tonight, war will never be fought with human blood again. Our enemies will have no answer to this... and our sons and daughters will never set foot on a battlefield again."
President Voss allowed herself a thin smile.
"Make history, Doctor."
Outside, the crowd was growing restless. The ceremony was about to begin.
A tall man in a sleek black suit — the program's official spokesman, Nathan Cross — stepped up to the podium placed before the towering device, the Genesis Spire, bathed in cold blue light.
He tapped the microphone, the sound echoing through the hushed field.
The cameras zoomed in. All across the country, televisions flickered to life.
"Good evening, citizens of the world," Nathan began, voice smooth and confident. "Tonight, we stand on the edge of evolution. No more death. No more sacrifice. Tonight, we give birth to the future — a future where our brave will no longer die in foreign sands. Tonight, humanity takes control of its own destiny."
Applause rippled across the field, a nervous, excited wave.
Nathan turned, raising his arm toward the Genesis Spire.
"Witness the beginning of a new era."
The ignition sequence began.
A low, thrumming sound vibrated through the ground.
The spire lit up, veins of sickly blue and green energy crawling up its surface. The mist generators whirred to life, releasing thin tendrils of vapor into the night air — beautiful, at first, like the Aurora Borealis stretching earthward.
News anchors whispered excitedly into their mics.
"...an incredible sight... truly the future of military advancement unfolding before our eyes..."
But something was wrong.
The ground began to tremble, subtly at first, then violently.
The mist grew thick, too fast, too heavy, swallowing the lights, the people, the cameras. Static hissed across the broadcast feeds. The air turned sour, metallic.
Screams echoed across the field.
Shapes — wrong shapes — started writhing in the mist.
Bodies formed where none should be. Not soldiers, but things. Twisted parodies of life: hulking, grotesque creatures with glistening jaws and too many eyes.
The cameras caught it all — the first attack, the ripping, the blood splattering against the lenses — before the feeds went black.
The world watched their future being torn apart in real time.
In the command tent, Dr. Vane stood frozen, horror stretching across his face.
The President's voice cut through the chaos like a knife:
"What have you done, Marcus?"
But there was no answer.
There was no undoing it now.
Humanity had opened a door it could never close.
---
The First Monster
Out in the swirling mist, the screams cut short one by one.
Cameras swung wildly, capturing only glimpses — a slashing claw, a streak of blood, bodies dragged into the fog.
And then...
The crowd fell into a paralyzed silence.
A new sound echoed across the field — a low, guttural growl, deep enough to vibrate inside the bones.
From the heart of the mist, it stepped forward.
It moved like a wolf, but nothing born of nature could look like this.
This creature was the size of a wolf when first encountered — lean, fast, and vicious. it body looked stretched and unnatural, a grotesque blend of ancient nightmares and something newly born from chaos. it skin shimmered wetly under the broken light, coated in a sickly, translucent slime that dripped onto the ground with every step.
It moved with terrifying flexibility, shifting between running on all fours to rising upright on two legs, it movements disturbingly fluid, almost boneless. Jagged claws curled from elongated fingers, and thick fangs jutted from snarling, split mouths that seemed too wide for it face.
Its head was elongated, the skull sharp and alien, with a mouth far too wide.
Rows of jagged fangs gleamed under the flickering floodlights, each tooth dripping with thick, dark saliva.
But it was the eyes that froze the world in terror — two blazing orbs of sickly green light, burning with a hunger so primal, so violent, it felt almost sentient.
Its claws clicked against the concrete as it stalked forward, each talon longer than a human feet.
And when it opened its mouth, it didn't howl — it shrieked, a horrific, tearing sound like a thousand screams layered over each other, ripping through the night.
Reporters fled. Soldiers fired their weapons blindly into the fog.
The bullets barely slowed the thing. it could heal very fast as if the wounds were never there .
It lunged, impossibly fast, a black blur against the lights, and the first group of people disappeared under a cloud of blood. Although the experiment failed the monsters being born out of thin air still has the motive in which they were created, they motive to kill humans
The cameras caught one last chilling image before the feeds cut out completely:
The monster's glowing eyes staring directly into the lens — as if it knew it was being watched