June 19th, 1983
No new incidents had been reported since Arlo's death.
That should have been comforting.
It wasn't.
If anything, the silence had only made the facility worse.
Erebus had fallen into a state of quiet panic. Most of its residents only left their rooms when absolutely necessary, usually for meals, and even then they moved in nervous groups or with their heads down, as if avoiding eye contact might somehow spare them from being chosen next.
The only mercy—if it could even be called that—was the food supply.
The facility had enough rations to last for a full year.
In a twisted sense, those reserves would last even longer once the body count started rising.
Nicholas wandered the halls alone, wearing his usual cheerful smile like nothing in the world was wrong.
A gun rested loosely in one hand.
A taser in the other.
The sight would have been ridiculous if it weren't so unsettling.
As he turned a corner, someone slammed into him hard enough to make both of them stop.
Nicholas blinked.
The woman in front of him adjusted herself with a sharp huff, clearly more irritated than startled.
She had brown hair tied neatly into a bun, not a strand out of place despite the circumstances. Crimson eyes stared at him from behind a pair of glasses, sharp and unimpressed. Beneath her lab coat, she wore a fitted black turtleneck that only made her look more severe.
Nicholas's smile widened.
"Oh, good," he said brightly. "I was just looking for you, Eliza."
Eliza frowned immediately.
"Why me?" she asked, glaring at him.
Nicholas tilted his head, still smiling.
"Well, aside from Arlo—who's already dead—you seemed like the next most likely person to get targeted."
Eliza's expression darkened.
"So kind to your ex," she said flatly. "Freak."
"It was a joke," Nicholas said, lifting his hands slightly in mock surrender. "I don't actually think you're next to die. I just wanted an excuse to see you."
Eliza gave him a flat look.
"I should file a restraining order," she said. "But that would mean speaking to that creep August, and somehow that sounds even worse."
Nicholas's smile faded just a little.
"Has August tried talking to you yet?"
Eliza let out a quiet, irritated sigh.
"Yeah," she said. "About his little cult."
Her arms folded tightly across her chest.
"I've already seen at least ten people following him around. I was keeping an eye on them." Her expression darkened. "They held some kind of gathering where the cocoon used to be. A mass, maybe. Whatever it was, it felt wrong."
Nicholas's eyes narrowed, though a faint chuckle still escaped him.
"Thanks for the information."
Eliza studied him for a moment, then asked—
"Are you going to kill him?"
Nicholas blinked.
"Why would I do that?" he asked lightly.
Eliza's stare didn't waver.
"You killed August's son," she said coldly. "How is this any different?"
Nicholas said nothing.
For a moment, the hallway fell completely still.
He let out a slow breath, and for the briefest instant, the cheerful mask slipped from his face. Something colder, heavier, and far more tired showed through.
Then, just as quickly, the smile returned.
"August Jr. had to die," Nicholas said quietly. "It was necessary." He paused, then shrugged lightly, as if he were discussing something far less serious than murder. "For now, August isn't a threat to the facility. If that changes… then maybe I will."
Eliza studied him in silence.
Then she asked, "If I became a threat, would you kill me?"
Nicholas's smile faltered.
Eliza's crimson eyes stayed locked on his.
"Would you shoot me in the head like you did to August Jr.?"
Nicholas looked away for half a second before answering.
"I'm not as strong as Wren," he said. "Even if you turned… I doubt I could kill you."
Eliza was quiet for a moment.
Then she stepped closer and rested her forehead against his chest.
"You're a bad liar," she murmured. "But I'll accept it."
Nicholas went still.
Her voice softened, though it lost none of its seriousness.
"If I do turn, I want it to be you." She closed her eyes. "Not Wren. Not Dorothea. No one else in this facility."
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
"Whether you have to strangle me to death… or put a bullet in my head…"
She pressed her forehead a little more firmly against him.
"Be the one to kill me."
Nicholas took a slow, unsteady breath.
Then, carefully, he wrapped his arms around her.
Eliza did not return the embrace.
But she didn't pull away either.
They stayed like that for a moment, suspended in the cold silence of the hallway.
Then Eliza muttered, almost under her breath—
"Stupid."
"Why did we break up again?" Nicholas muttered.
Eliza pulled back just enough to look up at him, her expression flat.
"Because you're a terrible liar," she said. "You never tell me the truth. You never even allow yourself to look flawed. You're always hiding behind that mask."
Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses.
"You act so perfect it's unsettling. Especially when I know you're actually a complete mess."
Nicholas let out a quiet breath, his smile softening into something more tired than cheerful.
"Maybe you're right," he admitted. "But right now, for everyone's sake, I need to look strong."
He glanced down the empty hallway.
"Everyone in this facility is panicking. Some are hiding in their rooms. Some are probably thinking about killing themselves before they get turned into monsters." His expression darkened. "And some are going to run straight into August's arms."
His smile returned, but it was thinner now. More deliberate.
"As head of security, I should be the one person who stays calm for them."
Eliza stared at him for a second.
Then she punched him in the stomach.
Nicholas doubled over slightly, more offended than injured.
"Idiot," she muttered.
She grabbed the front of his shirt and forced him to look at her again.
"At the very least, drop the mask when you're around me." Her voice was sharp, but not unkind. "I don't want to see you acting strong and perfect all the time. Act like a person. Like the rest of us."
Nicholas said nothing.
Eliza's grip loosened, but only a little.
"I don't care if you end up ugly crying," she said. "You can come back to my room and do it there, so you don't have to embarrass yourself in front of everyone else."
For the first time in a while, Nicholas's smile looked almost real.
"I'll consider it," Nicholas said.
"Cry… cry… cry…"
The voice drifted down from above, wet and soft, like something whispering through a throat full of fluid.
Both of them froze.
A second later, something warm and damp splashed onto Eliza's head.
She flinched.
Nicholas's smile vanished.
Slowly, the two of them looked up.
And what stared back at them was horrifying.
A massive, bloodshot eye clung to the ceiling, its swollen veins pulsing beneath a slick, glossy surface. It was far too large to belong to anything that should have existed, and it watched them with a horrible, unblinking focus.
Then they saw its pupil.
It was not a pupil at all.
It was a mouth.
A gaping maw embedded in the center of the eye, lined with rows upon rows of jagged, shark-like teeth that shifted and clicked against each other with every breath. Thick slime dripped from between them in long, glistening strands.
Wrapped around the eye was a nest of writhing tentacle-like appendages, each one ending in a tiny human hand.
Yellow fingernails dug into the ceiling panels, scraping into the metal as the thing held itself in place directly above them.
It was watching.
Waiting.
Drooling.
"Cry…" the monster whispered.
Its mouth stretched wider inside the eye.
"Beautiful…"
The tiny hands twitched.
"Am I beautiful?"
June 19th, 1983
On this day, the second incident within the Erebus Research Facility occurred.
The organism later designated Sorrowful Saint initiated an attack on Nicholas Graves and Eliza Miller.