I decided to write out another story, a big one. I think it'll be interesting.
Nina Sharp was not in a happy mood. But one wouldn't be, under the circumstances.
Having been shot about a week earlier, she'd since recovered from that horrible day and gotten back to work, as was her wish. The Philadelphia Office of Massive Dynamic had been working on something of great importance to her and the solving of the Pattern, and they had been instructed to call her or her office to report on their findings every few days, preferably every day. Normally, they did just that.
They hadn't been heard from for weeks.
Her driver pulled up in front of the office, and Nina stepped out. The place seemed almost abandoned, only a few lights flickered in the massive structure, and a sense of dread cut through the irritation. It was dusk, and Philadelphia seemed strangely dark and foreboding with MD suddenly dead like this.
She got out and walked up to the front door. She peered inside, but didn't see anything. Suddenly a bit nervous, she took out a flashlight, took a deep breath, and walked in.
It was completely quiet, not a sound or flicker of light or movement in the large, tiled front room, as far as Nina could tell. Turning the light towards the front desk, she jumped in shock.
A woman, possibly in her thirties with blond hair, sat at the desk. For a sick, ugly moment, Nina thought it was Dunham. Brushing away the foolish thought, she walked up to the woman, who looked like she was asleep.
"Miss," Nina said sharply. The word echoed through the dark room. "Miss, wake up, please." The woman made no movement, and then Nina realized that the woman's eyes were open.
She stumbled back in shock, then got a hold of herself. She covered her mouth and nose and ran out of the building. Her driver got out of the car at the sight of her sprinting from the building, and took out his phone, but sheepishly put it back when Nina took out hers and shook her head sternly.
"Broyles? It's Nina Sharp. I think you should send Miss Dunham to have a look at this."
--
A sharp knock came at Peter's door at about 8:00 at night. Peter looked up from the Lost season finale and got up.
"This is ludicrous." Walter said irritably. "As if an entire island could have it's own unique time and space. Absurd."
"Walter, in this last week, we've had to run across New England to stop a guy with teleportation leprosy walk through a weak spot in the universe into another reality. Cut J.J. Abrams some slack." Peter said as he opened the door. Walter scoffed.
Olivia Dunham stood at the doorway.
"Hey, sorry, but… Nina Sharp called." She said. Walter made another outraged sound, and Olivia peered around Peter, confused. "Is he alright?"
"Lost apparently isn't familiar with Fringe Science." Peter said wryly. "What happened?"
Olivia Dunham walked into the room, and the TV caught her eye as she turned to Walter.
"Is this the season finale?" She asked Walter.
"Yes, but it's completely idiotic." He snapped. She smiled, chuckling a little, and Peter rolled his eyes.
"Walter…"
"Anyway," Olivia continued. "Walter, could you pay attention?"
"With pleasure." The mad scientist turned off the TV with a look of disgust and turned to Olivia.
"Alright. We got a call from Nina Sharp." She continued. "Apparently, the Philadelphia Division of Massive Dynamic is supposed to call in to Nina Sharp every day-"
"Why?" Peter asked.
"She hasn't said exactly; only that it's important in stopping the Pattern. Anyway, they didn't call for nearly a month and a half, so she went to check on them. And, when she went in, she saw a body and called."
"Have people been sent in?" Peter asked, shocked.
"Yes. Everyone in the building is dead. But there's no violence, so sign of a struggle… It's like they just stopped moving or eating or breathing. Some died of starvation, others of suffocation."
Peter looked a little sick. Walter frowned.
"How odd…" He said quietly. Peter shook his head.
"Odd doesn't cover it."
"Miss Dunham, can you take us to Philadelphia?"
--
The Fringe Division walked through the darkened halls of the Philadelphia branch of Massive Dynamic, silent and grim. The bodies that littered the halls and filled the chairs and desks weren't bloody or beaten. They were emaciated or blue, and were lying down or sitting, their faces peaceful. A gentle, quiet death. But one of a massive scale.
Peter, Walter and Olivia were in the white suits, as was required with a potential bio-hazard. There was really nothing they could do. Walter asked for a few to be taken to his lab, but now the were just witnessing this quiet massacre.
"Peter…" Walter said quietly.
"Yeah, Walter?" Peter asked, his voice equally quiet. In places like this, quiet was sacred, the place itself hallowed ground. To talk loudly almost seemed cruel.
"I think I know what killed them."
Poor Lost. Walter is not pleased with them. XD