Shadows of a Doubt

It had been a week since Katagiri's death. For the past three days Alan and Shinoda had been staying at the Days Inn in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. They considered it a good place to generally set up 'base camp', for Knoxville was only a 15 minute drive from there.

For those past three days, they had visited some of the surrounding area, and gathered all the information they could. Most of their time was spent touring, interviewing locals and learning some of the local history and places of interest. On their way here Alan had decided to buy a small dictaphone for conducting interviews, so he wouldn't have to rely on his memory in case he missed something important.

They had also picked up a lot of 'urban legends', including a lot of strange stories about the wildlife. It was these Alan was listening to now, towards the end of the tape. For reasons Alan would discover later, most of these stories revolved around Oak Ridge;

"I can tell ya a few thing's about Oak Ridge. Ya know, birthplace of the A-Bomb? I hear some of 'em glow in the dark."

Click. Alan fast-forwarded a little, hoping to pick out something useful amongst all of this;

"I hear the deer around the Oak Ridge Wildlife Preserve near the Tennessee Technological Park have three eyes."

Click.

"Ya ever seen an Oak Ridge possum? It got six legs and two heads."

Click.

"Ya know ya can't drink the water in Oak Ridge, right? They got three-eyed fishes that swim in the Clinch River."

Alan stopped the dictaphone, and placed it off to one side. It was getting rather late, and he was almost ready to call it a night. He looked across at Shinoda, sat on the other bed in the room, holding a bag of ice over his forehead. He'd had a bad headache all day, and was finding it hard to get off to sleep. The doctors in Colorado had patched him up as best they could, but an injury like that would still take weeks to recover fully.

The room was piled high with newspaper cuttings, printouts, annotated maps of the state and the local area, anything that Alan and Shinoda thought could prove useful in finding out what King Ghidorah was up to. Alan had written out pages of translations for Shinoda, of what he considered to be some of the most important articles and passages. The history of Oak Ridge itself had made for interesting reading, particularly for the G-Chaser.

After a moment, Alan picked up the dictaphone and wound it back to the beginning of the tape. He turned it on and listened again, for it was near the beginning where most of the important stuff was. All of this was recorded on the second day, for the first day had been used to book their room and rest after the long journey.

Much of the information they had gathered had come from the Oak Ridge American Museum of Science and Energy, as well as interviews with some of the locals; those that didn't only spout urban legends, anyway. Alan had been particularly interested in the history and present status of two sites. One of these was Y-12, the very place where the bomb that destroyed Hiroshima was built. They were the only site that continued to produce uranium, though this was as fuel for US nuclear submarines. Nowadays they were mostly known as the producer of plasma energy. Alan still found it somewhat ironic that plasma energy had been intended as a clean alternative to nuclear energy, and a means to provide power without attracting Godzilla. It had turned out Godzilla liked plasma energy even more than he liked nuclear energy.

Upon hearing of what Y-12 was most famous for, however, Shinoda's blood had run cold. Alan couldn't help but understand what must have been going through Shinoda's mind at that point. Perhaps he had had relatives or ancestors in Hiroshima or Nagasaki when the bombs hit. He didn't talk about his family very much, aside from Io.

The other site, more interesting in a less morbid way to Shinoda, was X-10, now the Oak Ridge National Laboratory. They had been told that it was the scientists there who helped Intel create Kiryuu's AI. Alan wondered if they'd helped out had they known what Kiryuu was going to turn into. Also, since they were funded by Lockheed Martin, the ORNL conducted extensive research into the bio-syntech. Shinoda had wanted to look further into this, but Alan doubted they'd be allowed to just march into the facility.

So they had decided to ask around at the ORNL's closest partner, the Oak Ridge Hospital. What they had received, however, were mostly advertisements and loose facts. In the end, they did not find out anything they did not already know. Shinoda idly wondered whether the presence of Organiser G-1 in the syntech sample he had studied was unique to Kiryuu alone, or whether it was part of every piece of syntech out there. If that was true, then he would have to start taking his 'Gojira is a part of us' mantra quite literally. For obvious reasons he hadn't asked about this possibility.

Alan, meanwhile, was pretty much sick of hearing about bio-syntech. Well, being tied up twice in it, not to mention having a piece of it be forced into your ear and skewered into your brain by Kiryuu was bound to have that effect on people. Rather rudely, one of the receptionists who they had questioned had suggested that Shinoda's nose could do with some syntech. This made Alan snicker though, at the thought of a bio-syntech nose.

On the third day, Shinoda had been particularly fascinated by the Civic Center's Friendship Bell. It had been built in Nagasaki, made out of bronze and built into a Japanese-style pagoda structure. On both sides of it were engraved the dates of the bombings of Pearl Harbor and Hiroshima, the dates which started and ended Japan's involvement in the Second World War. Lotus blossoms and atom symbols were engraved on the face as a border. Shinoda had been captivated by it. It seemed, to him, that this had made the trip worthwhile.

Alan, meanwhile, had been more bothered by the spelling of the word 'centre'. He knew Americans spelt certain words differently from the 'proper' English spelling, and it just happened to be one of his pet peeves when he saw something 'misspelled'. He was in two minds about getting a marker pen and writing out the 'correct' spelling, but decided that he'd rather not risk a night in the police station.

It was as they had been leaving the Civic Center, that Alan had spotted a man he recognised; a blond-haired man wearing a Hawaiian shirt that Alan would recognise anywhere. They had briefly made eye contact, but by the time Alan registered who it was and had turned around to talk to him, he was gone. Alan hadn't told Shinoda about this man, but he reasoned that after everything Alan had told Shinoda about Kiryuu, explaining that he also knew a dragon who masqueraded as a human would be a bit too much for the poor man to take.

Now it was nearly the fourth day. He placed the tape to one side, letting it run for a while as a local woman explained the history and current condition of site K-25.

"Here's where it all started," Alan said, to himself more than anyone.

"Hmm?" Shinoda said, looking over at him for the first time in the last couple of hours.

"Oak Ridge…" Alan said. "It's where everything started. If it hadn't been for the bombs developed here, Kiryuu and Gojira wouldn't exist, at least not like they do now. There'd be no need for G-Chasers then… or the Oxygen Destroyer."

Shinoda sighed. "Please," he said, "don't talk to me about weapons of mass destruction. When I think about all of the facilities here; the K-33, K-25, and especially Y-12… It's like this place was built for the sole purpose of building those God-forsaken things." He placed the bag of ice bag over his head, muttering to himself.

Alan shrugged. "It pretty much was, the way I understand it. I heard the town was built in a matter of days rather than years. I heard it was nicknamed the 'Secret City'."

He turned back towards the tape, where the woman they had interviewed was wrapping up with this comment;

"Oak Ridge was built for war, is growing through peace, and living through science."

With that, he turned the tape off. He leaned back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling fan, which spun slowly. The past few days had been very cold and wet; that was apparently fairly normal in Tennessee. It reminded Alan of England, if he was being honest with himself.

"The thing is," Alan said, "none of this answers the question we need an answer to; what does King Ghidorah want from this place? I can see why Gojira might come here; this place must be the equivalent of ten square meals to him. I can't see what King Ghidorah wants from here, though…"

Shinoda looked back over at Alan, sitting up some more. "You said in that vision you had that nuclear weapons were going off…"

"Yeah," Alan nodded. "I thought King Ghidorah wanted Kiryuu to access whatever launch codes they have, even though Kiryuu says he doesn't have them. I still think that's his plan, but what does Knoxville have to do with it? Something's here that he wants, I'm sure of it, but I've no fucking clue what."

Shinoda sighed. He did not know either. It was then he had an idea.

"You said there was a national park in Tennessee, correct?" he said. "We have yet to visit that place, it might be worth our while to do so."

"The Smoky Mountains?" Alan said. "Yeah, that might have something. We'll go there tomorrow. It should only take an hour to get there, depending on the traffic. We can spend all day there, see what we can find. Come to think of it, geological surveys are about the only things we haven't checked."

Shinoda nodded, seemingly pleased that Alan was actually listening to his ideas.

"Hey," Alan suddenly said, "you think we'll have time to head to Lynchburg one of these days?"

"Lynchburg?" Shinoda said, looking puzzled. "What on Earth is there?"

"The Jack Daniels distillery," Alan replied, with a sly smirk. He was partial to some of that particular brand of whiskey on occasion.

Shinoda sighed. "Speaking of distilleries," he said, "the office is still a mess, after Katagiri raided it. If we make it through this, I'll have to clean it up, see what can be salvaged of the GPN-"

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker. The small clock on the nightstand started flashing erratically. A loud rumbling could be heard, and then the room started shaking, as if a sudden earthquake had struck. Shinoda bolted up, more awake than he had previously been. Some of the papers on the desk toppled onto the floor. Alan pulled out his mobile, noticing that it, like the clock, was flashing strangely, the keypad lighting randomly like some crazy disco.

Finally, the rumbling began to subside, and the flashing lights went out completely. The room was plunged into darkness. Glancing towards the window, Alan saw there wasn't any light coming from outside. Pressing the buttons on his phone, he did not see the screen light up as it normally would.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then Alan heard Shinoda's voice, quiet, clearly terrified.

"Alan?" he asked, speaking in a loud whisper. "Are you there? I can't see a thing."

"I can, though," Alan said. The eyes he had inherited from Kiryuu were granting him improved visual clarity in darkness. Alan could see as clearly as in daylight. He looked directly at Shinoda, though the scientist could not see him doing so.

"I'm still here," Alan reassured him. "What the hell's just happened? Not even my phone's working."

"Isn't it?" Shinoda was about to ask how Alan could still see in this darkness, but he was sidetracked by this new issue. "Then the problem cannot be a power cut, if it's shut down all electronics and not just those on a local grid. It sounds like the work of an EMP, but how could one have been caused here?"

Alan had heard the term 'EMP' before. As he understood it, an electro-magnetic pulse knocked out all electronic equipment in the blast radius. He wondered if this had happened elsewhere, but didn't know how to find out. He thought it best to sit tight until the power was back on.

Just then, he heard a sound; a voice of some kind, he was sure of it. It sounded like it had come from outside. Slowly, he rose from the bed, and felt about in the dark for the nightstand. Finding it, he felt his way to the handle of the small drawer and opened it, grabbing his Desert Eagle from inside. At this, Shinoda seemed to become alarmed.

"Alan?" he called out to the darkness. "Is that you? What's happening?"

"I'm gonna go check on something outside," Alan said. "Stay here and wait for me."

"Wait a minute!" Shinoda said. He was about to ask how Alan was supposed to see without a torch, but Alan had already prised open the window leading to the fire escape and was starting to leave through it.

As Alan had suspected, there was not a single light switched on outside. The car park was cloaked in darkness. No normal human could possibly see anything in this blackness. Alan held his gun steady, gazing around at the dark shapes of cars and bushes. Not a single light was on, not even any from passing cars. The place was also deserted.

Or was it? As he walked towards the edge of the car park, he heard the voice again. Now that Alan was outside, he could hear it much more clearly. It sounded like a child, crying…

Alan shook his head. Surely he couldn't be hearing what he thought he was hearing? Where was the crying coming from? Even as he moved on, the sound faded, and other voices could now be heard, of varying pitches. They all seemed to be saying different things. Some were crying, others muttering incoherently, and still others sounded like they were laughing; children laughing, as well as almost maniacal laughter coming from other sources.

Alan's eyes widened. The voices seemed to be coming from all around him. He spun around several times, his gun raised, trying to identify the source of the voices, but could see no-one. As he listened, he suddenly heard other snatches of speech, from two voices he recognised:

I thought I had gotten all of you.

You missed one.

Alan knew who those voices belonged to; King Ghidorah and Kiryuu. Suddenly, even as the other childish voices continued, Alan saw several figures forming in front of him. They seemed to be composed of some kind of black mist, a mist that was forming vaguely human shapes. There were other shapes he didn't recognise, but all seemed to have one thing in common.

They all had one pair of vivid, blood-red eyes, with slits for pupils. As they started to advance on him, Alan narrowed his own eyes, knowing where he had seen those eyes before. They were King Ghidorah's eyes, and anything with eyes like that could not be good.

Alan did not even shout a warning. He was not taking any chances. He fired two shots straight at the figures. However, the bullets passed straight through, and the strange laughter continued. He backed away from them, figuring he would make a run for it back to the hotel room.

However, as he turned, another figure was stood right behind him, and as he turned it swung its 'arm' out towards him. Alan actually yelped in surprise as he toppled over, landing hard on the solid concrete. His gun slipped out of his hand. He was now on his back, defenceless, looking straight upwards as the figure that had struck him down stood over him. The other figures formed a circle around him, looking down on him, the strange cackling continuing.

As Alan looked up at his attacker, he came to the sudden, horrifying realisation of what its silhouette represented. It was a black, misty form of Kiryuu, with those same red eyes. Suddenly, it raised its arm, the form extending to look like live snakes were jutting out of the end of it. Alan's eyes widened in horror.

"No!" he shouted, as the Kiryuu figure suddenly struck downwards, straight at him, wrapping the snake-like tentacles around his throat. Alan closed his eyes, struggling hard, and feeling like he was choking. His ears were full of the same noise, louder than ever; a noise like ringing bells, which sounded like cackling laughter.

Alan snarled, trying to yell. He thought he could hear someone calling his name, and through his eyelids something seemed brighter, like there was light shining on them.

"Alan!"

Alan's eyes snapped open, and he lurched upwards, preparing to strike his attacker... only his attacker was no longer there. Alan breathed hard, sweat pouring down his face as if he had run for several miles. There was no sign of any of the misty figures anywhere.

"Alan!"

Alan turned sharply, now seeing Shinoda staggering about a short ways off, looking desperately around for him. All of a sudden the lights in the car park snapped back into life, and Shinoda spotted Alan and ran over to him.

"Alan…" Shinoda said, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

Alan slowly crawled over to where his gun was, picking it up and holstering it. It seemed like he didn't have the strength to stand up. He did not answer, just continued to breathe hard, seemingly not looking at anything in-particular.

"Alan…" Shinoda said, "Let's get out of here."

With that, Shinoda stood up, holding out his hand towards Alan. After a pause, Alan took it, and Shinoda pulled him up to his feet. Alan leaned on him, and he supported the seemingly-terrified G-Chaser back towards the hotel.

Alan could not make sense of what it was he had just seen. It was those terrible eyes, above all else, that he remembered, not to mention that he definitely recognised Kiryuu's silhouette amongst those figures. One thought kept running through his mind, further reinforced by that cackling laughter he had heard, a sound he had come to fear two years ago.

"He's coming…" he muttered faintly.

***

Greenwich Mean Time is several hours ahead of the standard time in Tennessee, so it was the early hours of the morning over in Newgate Asylum in Norfolk. Patients in the Asylum rarely got a good night's sleep, for some still felt fit to stay awake, as if they were too scared to fall asleep and dream.

One patient, in room 12B, was feeling that way now. Dr. Martin O'Brien had been on his best behaviour lately, so he was no longer bound in a strait jacket. However, he tossed and turned on the floor of his padded cell, eyes darting all around the room, terrified out of his mind as if something was about to jump out at him.

He had hoped the voices and the visions were gone. However, those hopes had been dashed. For they had returned to him, the nightmarish visions of death and destruction, of the many voices crying out in pain as their lives were stolen from them.

He could not help it. He began to weep.

"No more…" he stammered, quietly, a look of pure, unbridled pain on his features. "Please… Let it end…"

With that, he suddenly felt a tightening sensation around his neck. He was having trouble breathing, as if a pair of invisible hands had clamped around his neck and were strangling him. He thrashed around, trying to shake off his invisible attacker, but to no avail.

He knew he was dying… His vision was fading, and he could not draw breath any more. The last thing he would ever hear was that all-too-familiar, bell-like call, resembling cackling laughter, and a deep, grand voice speaking with pure malice.

Lesley is waiting for you.

It would be several hours before one of the wardens, Webber, would go to Dr. O'Brien's cell to bring his breakfast, and discover the body. Autopsy reports would later reveal that Dr. O'Brien had choked to death by swallowing his own tongue during a particularly violent seizure. What had struck the coroner as strange, however, were Dr. O'Brien's eyes. Instead of their usual brown colour, they had become a deep, blood red, with slits for pupils.