FCA003_540301_Mary_Jess_EC

“Uhh, Statement of Jess Mary. Her account of Project Seraphim Dawn, in New Mexico, in 2032. Originally given March 1st, 2054. Recorded 27th March 2070, by Eva Cantrell, assistant archivist of the Frozen Chariot Archive.

Statement begins.

We didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into. I was a student at New Mexico State, Psych major. Everything in my life seemed handed to me, which i was quite comfortable with. So i wasnt terribly surprised to be recruited into the CIA. At first, they sent me out to accompany teams in the Middle East, I could go into that, But the things i saw in the US are so much worse.

We were in Nevada, in one of the massive swaths of land owned by the government, and kept off-limits to the public. These places didn’t show up on any maps, and you wouldn’t know they were there unless you stumbled on the perimeter fences—or the guards found you first. It wasn’t just military testing or experimental aircraft out there. No, what they were doing with Project Seraphim Dawn was something else entirely.

When I was reassigned to Nevada, they didn’t tell me much. My orders were vague: “psychological analysis and operational support for classified initiatives.” That’s government-speak for “keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.” At first, it seemed routine—assessments of soldiers, tracking stress responses during field simulations. Nothing that made me question what was happening.

Now I was working as an assistant, more of an entry level, but i stumbled across a document labeled “Seraphim Dawn.” I had never heard of the project before, but just holding hte folder made my spine tingle.

It was thick, and the paper was a fresh-printed white. I opened it, but nothing seemed off. there were images of the “volunteers” of the program, names and that sort of thing, but they were stamped with “No further use” over their faces. Except subject 13. He was the youngest, born 5 years later than the others.

I flipped through a bunch of nothing under the other 12 subjects, and began reading subject 13’s notes.

At the top, below his face and simple information, was a caption. “Contact made. Termination required.” It chilled me to the bone. I never felt that before that moment.

“Jess, what are you doing tonight?” A colleague of mine, I’ll call him John, asked. His tone was playful, he was obviously trying to flirt.

Seeing him shocked me out of this stupor i was in. “Oh, just files and paperwork.”

“Lucky me, I was assigned this duty temporarily. I came across some unmarked tapes, do you wanna watch them with me?”

I felt a chill run down my neck, followed by a warm feeling. “Sure, good way to kill some time. I’m on till midnight.”

Those videos. Those were some of the most horrific things I've ever seen.

We sat in the dimly lit break room, the hum of the fluorescent lights above barely audible over the static of the ancient VHS player. John loaded the unmarked tape into the machine, his fingers shaking slightly as he hit play. The screen flickered for a moment, and then the footage began.

At first, everything seemed ordinary. A typical government test. The camera captured a sterile room with military personnel in the background, standing in their usual positions, monitoring the situation. In the center of the room sat Subject 13, his face calm and expressionless, almost too calm. The room was quiet, save for the faint clicking of equipment in the background.

But then the footage shifted. The camera zoomed in on Subject 13’s face. His eyes—those still, unnerving eyes—seemed to flicker, almost as if something was moving behind them. The ambient noise of the room grew distant, and there was a subtle but noticeable hum, a low vibration that began to pulse through the feed.

His face contorted, a horrible change from blank to screaming and back in a split second. I almost thought the video had been chopped. He made some sounds, human sounds. General moaning and random syllables.

Then the dull sound happened, it was unclear whether it came from 13 or from somewhere else. A deep grinding sound that hurt my ears. It didn't seem random, just a sequence of some sort.

Then a wave of static hit the feed, and it cut out moments later. Then the video changed, the room was the same, but the lights were bright, and 13 was chained to a steel table.

Across from him was Dr Ziegler, one of the more mysterious people in the lab.

“Where are you right now?”

“Why are you speaking to me.” 13 returned.

“Who are you?”

“Gyolnr.” it was an odd sounding name, and definitely not the name of 13, a white American boy.

“Who are you?”

“What do you believe me to be?”

“An angel.”

At that, 13 shot forward, restrained by the chains around his waist and feet.

“I am no angel.” Another wave of static hit the feed and i saw an unholy amount of blood on the table, all Ziegler's. And I turned off the video. John and me stayed silent. I took the VHS, but i havent watched it since. Figured your institute would have a use for it.

Statement ends.

While I have not found the VHS mentioned here, i found some notes on it.

*“VHS number 540301A, recorded at an unknown date and time. Recieved by Arthur Vegas.

*These are notes only after Jess stopped watching. What she said about it was spot on.

*Subject 13 appears unnervingly calm, while Ziegler struggles to speak.

*“what are you?” He croaks.

*“As I said, I am not your angel.”

*Camera gets a blast of static, and a second later Ziegler's skull is split open like a flower’s petals, laying on the table.”

The VHS was apparently labeled 540301A, indicating there was either a second VHS or something else was submitted that day. Will search for that and update this file when able.