012. A Sudden Turn

Chelyabinsk, Russia.
The investigation in Karabash hit a wall. Andrei's team, moving under the cover of night, found their path blocked by more than just fences. The air was thick with the scent of decay, the ground poisoned by decades of pollution from the old copper mines. Entire sections of the district were sealed off, the dangers of toxic exposure too great. Progress slowed to a crawl, frustration mounting as regulations and the remnants of a tainted past kept them at bay.
Unsatisfied, Sergei took matters into his own hands. He demanded to go undercover as a smelting factory worker, slipping into the role with ease. The factory was a relic, its machinery groaning under the weight of years, the air inside thick with soot and secrecy. It was there, amid the daily grind, that Sergei uncovered a chilling truth—workers were disappearing, their absences hidden by the company to protect its name. He passed the information to Andrei, knowing they had finally found a crack in the case, something worth pursuing.
That night, Andrei, accompanied by Anna and a resolute Olga who insisted on joining, executed their infiltration with precise coordination. Olga ascended to a high vantage point, her eyes fixed on the scope of her Chukavin, carefully monitoring their movements with practiced focus. Below, Andrei and Anna navigated the factory’s mining area with the stealth of seasoned operatives, slipping through the shadows with deliberate, silent steps. Their synchronized movements spoke of years of training and experience as they maneuvered through the darkened industrial landscape, determined to reunite with Sergei and address the threat.
“There’s a mining site on the border, near an ancient tunnel in the north,” Sergei said, his voice low as he pointed in the direction. “Most of the disappearances happened during the night shifts there. The area’s been closed off, but it’s unguarded, so we should be able to proceed safely.”
The three of them fanned out across the dark, desolate site, each step calculated, each movement deliberate. They combed through every inch of the terrain, scanning the ground for the faintest signs of disturbance, checking the walls for unusual markings or cracks that might suggest an origin point. Flashlights cut through the gloom, illuminating piles of rubble, twisted metal, and rusted equipment left to decay. They took careful notes, analyzing the patterns in the debris, testing the air for any traces of abnormal substances, and cross-referencing the data with the reports of previous nights. Every sound, every flicker of light, was met with intense scrutiny as they worked methodically to uncover the creature’s path.
As the hours dragged on, fatigue began to settle in, but they pushed forward, driven by the urgency of their mission. They reconvened at an area barricaded with wooden planks and signs warning of danger ahead. Still, nothing out of the ordinary emerged—just the cold, eerie silence of the abandoned site. Then, Sergei’s device emitted a sharp, insistent beep, drawing their attention to the sudden spike in radiation levels. The readings were dangerously high, forcing them to pause and reassess. Amid this tense moment, Andrei’s phone buzzed, a signal of an incoming message.
"Pierre found another victim in France," Andrei announced, slipping his phone back into his pocket after reading the message.
"So, there’s more than one Miss X entering our world," Anna concluded, her tone heavy with weariness.
"One or more, it doesn’t matter. Their emergence started on our soil. Our incompetence has put another country in danger," Andrei said, frustration edging his voice.
"It’s the army that messed everything up!" Anna snapped. "If that stupid Major hadn’t turned the mission into a street parade, Miss X would never have escaped!"
"The Major is dead, Anna," Sergei reminded her, his voice calm.
"I know," she replied, her voice laced with bitterness. "If it were up to me, I’d put his head on display in the city center."
Sergei chuckled at her remark. Andrei, however, cut through the moment with a decisive tone. "We’ll return here tomorrow night with the proper equipment."
"I’ll gather more intel from the workers," Sergei added, a sigh of disappointment escaping him. "This time, I’ll filter it before notifying you, Andrei. I won’t let this happen again."
Olga observed the three figures retreating into the distance through the cold green hue of her rifle’s night vision scope. Andrei and Anna moved swiftly, scaling the wall with practiced ease before heading directly toward her position. She began to pack her equipment, methodically disassembling and stowing each piece. But before she broke down her rifle, Olga paused, her gaze lingering on Sergei. He was taking a solitary, shadowed path toward the far reaches of the employee housing complex, the darkness swallowing him as he ventured further away.
"Blin!" Olga’s blood ran cold as terror seized her.
Through the night vision scope, she spotted a humanoid figure, eerily resembling a naked, tall man, moving behind the unsuspecting Sergei. The creature’s gait was awkward, almost grotesque, as it took wide, exaggerated steps, tiptoeing with an unsettling mix of the comical and the horrific.The creature’s skin was a sickly, pallid hue, stretched taut over an emaciated frame. Its outstretched hands reached forward with an almost mechanical precision, fingers curled like claws, emanating a chillingly predatory intent.
The woman’s left hand frantically fumbled for her communication device while her right swiftly loaded a magazine into her rifle. She dropped flat to the ground, rifle poised and ready. But when she peered through the scope again, Sergei was gone. The spot where he had been moments before was now empty, swallowed by the darkness.
“Target behind Sergei!” Olga's voice crackled urgently through the communicator as she slipped the wireless earpiece into place. “I’ve lost visual contact!”
Instantly, Andrei pivoted with military precision, his movements sharp and deliberate as he sprinted toward Sergei’s last known location. Anna, agile and swift, darted ahead of him, her short machete flashing with a deadly gleam in the dim light as she held it firmly in her right hand, every step exuding confidence and purpose. Meanwhile, perched at her vantage point, Olga methodically swept the area with her rifle’s scope, her focus unwavering as she tracked every movement with expert accuracy. Her steady breathing and the quick, practiced adjustments of her scope reflected her professionalism, even as she wrestled with the mounting dread that the worst might have already unfolded under her watch.