FEAR: Dark Signal

by Gamemast15r

Years after the Fairport Incident, Genevieve Aristide has remained a fugitive from the clutches of the U.S. Government for years. However, new intel and sightings in a secret Armacham facility has led to a new task force to capture the former CEO and bring her to justice. Takes place directly after the first game and ignores the events of the sequels.

SITUATION:

A high level alert has been issued.

MISSION:

F.E.A.R. Team 3 is to report for emergency briefing on the situation in central command.

FILE DATE:

Intel Briefing

Day 0 - 0700 Hours

F.E.A.R. Team 3

F.E.A.R. Headquarters, Redacted

A vast desert covers the landscape in a blanket-like form, smothering every inch by inch and mile by mile. Bones fly with the wind and old city buildings crumble into dust with the first contact of touch. Beyond that are the songs of silence, which when heard make one feel as if the entire world is an anechoic chamber, only heard through extrasensory perception not known to any mere mortal. If there was a place one could view as the living embodiment of Hell, this place would be it. A pyramid forms in the background out of sheer willpower and flips the landscape behind it upside down, the sun blotting out as it turns dark.

The structures stay in place, however the sands of time flow in reverse with the pyramid as strange permutations of shapes slowly become visible underneath the grains. These outlines could be perceived by the naked eye as human in nature, but if one were to look closer it would be something rather unobtainable. The twisted geometry stood in place with the premises behind them. A hole expands in the ground, some were swallowed whole into the vast nothingness, no sounds except a light vibration of the softness below. A colorless red bled out into the sky slowly piece by piece as flashes go back and forth between two images. They travel between a city in chaos slowly drooling out flames of fire and the cosmic desert behind it. In the background, a blood red mist circles the familiar sight of another black gateway, almost connecting like human tissue.

Faded overlays of a man and a small child in a misty forest bleed into the picture. A deep growl formulates.

"Kill them, kill them all."

A woman in a nurse outfit with blood dripping out of her mouth chews into the neck of nearby men, dressed in blue shirts and body vests. A sleek yet generic office style decorates the walls and floors as blood slowly fills up from behind the shambling, yet energetically precise being. Another woman of Asian descent with a black bob hairstyle, strapped to a nearby wall opens her eyes in true fear as she sees this figure slowly walking towards the door. Three men, armed with blocky green assault rifles leave the room as the prisoner's face turns to tears; all that is seen are small pockets of light going off, followed by a wail that rises so loud that it pushes way past what anyone's vocal cords could manage.

A nearby group of soldiers decked out in high military gear, also armed with the same green camo assault rifles, rise out of their longing dreams. One by one every single one of them moved up with striking precision having woken up from a deep slumber, the barrels of their assault rifles aiming towards the heavens. A panoramic view floats above a series of buildings, bathed in darkness but surrounded by artificial lights. Behind of which is an arch surrounded by a cave that leads into a pale, white and chilly abyss. The door to the outside closes as the inhabitants are warmed by the fire of submachine guns as they go off in the streets. A frail, older woman witnesses these armored soldiers move forward; panic envelops on her face as another man with a clean shaven face, full hair and blue streaks over his clothes grabs her and moves her out of the room as more gunfire erupts.

The angel of death in the nurse garb walks through a door as if it's paper and rips it apart with sloppy, but clean precision. The roads beneath them swarm with nearby troopers, clothed in helmets that cover the very facet of their being as they exchange gunfire with local security. The boys in blue surround the nurse, armed with submachine guns with a fearful expression as blood drips from the man-eater. They yell words but nothing formulates as the music escalates. Everything pans over to the security officers as their facial features warp more and more, horrified at the figure they see in front of them. Through the cornea of one of the guards, this being could see itself reverse metamorphosize as its skin peels back revealing a sort of reddish hue underneath. All that's left to be heard are piercing shouts and rapid shots before silence.

The desert changes form yet again as thunder is introduced into the reverse sky above the skeleton of the city below. It was as if it was folding within itself, trying to squeeze out any form of liquid only to come up short. The figures below watch as humanoids crawl out the hole, a strange mass of what looked to be human ligaments slowly and desperately finagling out. It's fragile and brown skin, deserted and formless eyes connected together to what might be a face as it slowly climbs within itself. Finally the others next to the hole start to move themselves, all the while the image of the child in the woods forms over top of this hole. A purplish ooze slithers over top of this endless series of trees, slowly fading into a dark crimson yet again.

Chaos ensued, sounds of shells dropping and explosions going off remain as the city inside the cave proceeded to implode within itself. The archway out to the cold stands tall, sturdy in its design. The abyss grows wider as the deep cave turns into emptiness, but one covered seemingly in garnet stars. A diseased ligament slowly comes out and blood lights slowly seep through the area, lighting up the entire city. Everyone stops in their tracks and proceeds to watch as time fast forwards to a potential destiny, flashing forward to the empty sands yet again. The bodies morph together in a sort of dance as the barren desert pulsates a scarlet figure, the hands and legs climb on top of each other as if it's a sort of king of the hill competition to get to the top, an amorphous abomination held together only by chaining to each others ligaments. Suddenly, one manages to make it to the top, but is barely able to hold it together as they only manage to raise up what could be assumed to be a finger. The crusty almost skeletal-like finger from the sky reaches down itself, the passage of time differing as it brings it downwards slowly but with great speed. The digits brush on top of each other as a strange formation of lights shine from the sky which each cloud of thunder that strikes, brightening with each pulsation. The music crescendos as the hands finally grab one another, the future remains hopeless but one instance, the kid at the forest again. They look straight at you.

"You must die".

The music stops permanently as the phone rings. It loops for a bit, the grungy sound emulating something out of an old VHS tape before it clicks. You can almost hear the touch of the hand as it grips the land line, bringing it up to the person's ear. The face is shielded in shadows, the only sight being a hand.

"Yes?" he asked calmly but groggily, unimpressed by the time the call was taking place. A tense voice filled the void on the other end of the line, quick breaths exhaled as the woman began to speak.

"We have a problem, Everett has gone unstable." She wasn't mad at the man, but she was almost certainly not happy.

"Genevieve?" the man asked, this time his voice getting more irritable and his nose sniffled.

"She's gone off the fucking deep end, this needs to be cleaned up, ASAP." In the background gunfire could be heard, the words ASAP barely being legible over the sounds of bullet casings piercing nearby plaster.

"That stupid bitch" the older man said to himself before sighing heavily. The gunfire ceased for a few seconds. "You still there?"

"Yeah" she stated before going into awkward silence and deep breathing.

"Activate the Fahrenheit Protocol. I'm gonna make a few calls, try to sta-". Gurgling emerged from the other line, like something was being spilled onto the ground before a sudden thud landed, filling up the entire line with loud noise.

"Hello are you still th-" he asked quietly, cut off preemptively by a heavy and inconsistent wheeze. It seemed almost unnatural, inhuman. Chills ran down the man's spine, barely able to mutter a single word as his hair started to stick up.

"Shit", the line disconnects abruptly as a booming slam sound emerges, putting it back in its place.

Interval 0 - Intel Briefing-

"Hey there newbie…you doing ok over there?" the woman asked. She was decorated head to toe with a black shirt and body armor, with green camo pants gripping holsters reserved for her combat knife and pistol. She snapped her fingers for a bit as the other guy came to, only a blank stare behind the goggles.

"Roth, new guy; get over here" ordered the squad leader. Black and gray camo gear fit snug on him, blending a buzz cut to his stern, brown face. The new guy and Roth walked over to the squad leader when he introduced himself to their lead.

"Conrad, Jack Conrad. I'm the leader of Team 3, nice to finally meet you." Conrad stated. The new guy stood emotionless as ever, hiding behind the balaclava with goggles combo. Conrad stood blank faced as well, slowly morphing his face muscles over the next couple of seconds. Eventually he cracked, warping into a stunned look. He proceeded to breathe quickly again before moving his mouth.

"Yeah I heard you're not much of a talker, that's fine. Just follow orders and you'll be okay.' Nothing. It was eerie almost, no elicited reaction out of his cold, dead eyes.

In which case, let's go ahead and meet the rest of the team before the briefing, yeah?" suggested Conrad casually, having shrugged off the awkward silence.

The masked soldier slowly walked towards the rest of the team members standing next to a table nearby. The table was adorned with the maple wood, the shiny reflection communicating with the nearby LED lamps. Surrounding the table were giant television sets and monitors, with security footage paused over a grainy photo of an older woman. While Balaclava was making his way to the squad, who were posturing around the table and joking like old buddies, Jack slowly followed behind as Roth came up from behind and quietly whispered something in his ear.

"So..what's this guy's thing Jack? I'm sure he's capable but he seems a bit out of it." Roth asked, quietly but a tad bit concerned. Truth is, Conrad didn't know the guy. All he knew was that upper management threw a file at him, told him that he would be joining up, whether he liked it or not. Some things we're better left unquestioned, he felt.

"No clue Em, guess we just have to trust the command on this one. They wouldn't put him with us unless it was for a good reason, ya know?" suggested Jack. It felt familiar, echoing back to something he had heard before but couldn't put his finger on. "C'mon, let's meet up with the rest of the team".

The new guy stood across from the rest of the group as the two made their way up to join them, surprisingly towering a bit over the rest of them. The faces of the other three members of the team were startled as if a phantom suddenly appeared before them. It wouldn't be their first encounter with ghosts, but this one felt creepier than the other times. All three were male, but two of them looked nearly identical with white complexion. The only thing separating these two seemed to be that one had a beanie and the other one didn't. The only one that stood out from the two was a brown-skinned man with cornrows, wearing a black tank top with body armor and muscles surrounding the rest of the body, look startled and a bit confused. However, taking a leap of faith that the other two wouldn't, he was the first one to introduce himself.

"Edwin, Mark Edwin; but you can just call me Ed like the rest of them." he said,

extending his hand out for a handshake. The new guy didn't move, let alone respond. After a couple of seconds he retracted his arm again, feeling awkward and slightly offended. The white guy with the beanie whispered in his ear before speaking up.

By that point, Emily and Jack had arrived as the awkwardness floated around the room with the others. The guy with the beanie spoke up, a bit of bemusement in his tone as he assessed the mute's behavior.

"Where you transfer from?" the beanie wearing man asked, wrapped head to toe in an all black jacket with heavy body armor on his person. He titled his head a bit before a light in his eye emerged, as if he suddenly knew something everyone else didn't before chuckling lightly to himself. He looked over at Jack and Emily, his jaw shaped in a way that betrayed his next question with ease.

"Who the hell is this guy Cap? Seems a little shy, yeah?" he snickered a bit to his group, before Jack chimed in right afterwards.

"Don't be an ass Blair, the new guy's going to be alright. We can trust him, management said that his ratings are off the charts, almost as good as the other guy's." he responded with condemnation, but acknowledging there was some merit.

"Alright…" Blair said, shrugging to himself before giggling again and turning to the stranger, who has shown absolutely no reaction to any of this in any way shape or form. "No reason to be shy new guy, we've all seen our fair share of conflict..." he stated in a braggadocious manner. He pulled his shirt up to reveal a giant burn mark on his chest. He pulled his shirt back down before looking him dead in the eye. "3 years ago, Rio De Janeiro. Sent to quell a terrorist cult attempting to summon a demon...you believe that shit?" Blair asked in a sort of joking way that had everyone eye rolling to themselves. They were used to his shit by now, falling into the age old trope of "military tough guy trying to cover insecurities by way of acting masculine". An acknowledgement that he wasn't really funny or tough, but that it was one of the only ways he knew how to bond.

The other white guy with the five o'clock shadow looked at him funny before rolling his eyes and muttering to himself. All you could hear under his breath was "what a way to introduce yourself" before looking up and speaking to the freshman.

"Roth, Eric Roth. You already met my sister Emily and our squad leader Jack; the dweeb with the burn mark is Jason Blair and you already talked to Ed.." finished Eric as he pointed his finger towards the man with cornrows next to Jason. His eyebrows switched positions, marking a bit of curiosity as he followed up. "It's nice to meet you…uh…you have a name?" Eric questioned, before meeting the same fate of droning crickets, only interrupted by a door flying open at breakneck speed. This startled everyone and got their attention, and one by one each person had recognized who came through the door.

He was an older man with a white shirt, brown pants, and a tactical vest which had F.E.A.R. emboldened on his chest as well as a cap that had the same logo on it. The whole squad knew him as Commissioner Rodney Betters, the actual team leader and the coordinator. He was considered a legend in the organization, in control of at least five different squads, all with different assignments around the world. Eric proceeded to speak up one last time.

"Well new guy, I'm sure we'll get to know each other soon, yeah?" Eric stated, both as a question and a sort of confirmation. All he could hear Blair whisper from behind his ear was "Dude's fucking weird." to which Edwin nodded his head in agreement. Betters opened his mouth and began to speak, pulling out a remote he had in his pocket and flicking the buttons to the next frame in the slideshow. One was of a frail, older woman in a business casual suit.…one all too familiar for everyone.

"This is Genevieve Aristide, the former president of Armacham Technology Corporation. Her actions were the catalyst behind the Fairport Incident, which were only concluded after a company facility located deep beneath the Auburn District wiped out all traces of paranormal activity." Betters felt a deja vu towards the incident, and a question popped in his head temporarily. How did it wipe out the traces? Were they wiped out? He didn't think about it too much however, pressing the button to get to the next slide. The pictures showed a man walking with a bullet hole in his forehead, before furiously flickering onto overlay satellite shots of a giant crater. Memories of the incident shot back into everyone's head like a stray bullet, dead silence but eyes wide opened. Who could forget this? This was one of the heaviest and most extensive operations the organization had ever seen before. Betters moved on to the next portion.

"We had tried to reach out after gathering intel that led to her being outed as the one behind Project Origin's reawakening, but she dropped off the face of the Earth like…." he snapped his thumb and his middle finger together. "..that." Betters said stone faced, as matter of fact and blunt as possible. However, under this voice was a slight tinge of irritation, tension boiling up underneath. For Betters this somehow became personal, which wasn't usually the case for him, and everyone knew something was up.

His tone switched to something more so like his usual self however as the slideshow flipped over to a surveillance photo covered in markings. The moment captured concrete buildings surrounded with snow and armed guards and this same older woman, now even more frail looking, walked with an unknown older man with prescription glasses on. They were barely recognizable however on account of the heavy jackets and hoodies covering up most of their face. They found the bitch.

"She's since reemerged here.." he stated before snapping over to the next slide, showing a map showing the top of the Ural Mountains near the coast. Covering the map were red circles, numbers hastily scribbled that read 67.961941, 66.160802, with the name "Arzavat-5?" next to it. Surrounding it were the same previous pictures of Genievieve but this time with added photos of building entrances, exits, and other combed military details.

"This is Arzavat-5, a former Soviet closed city located somewhere in the area. What this facility was supposed to do before her appearance is unknown, but financial records show that before Armacham Technology Corporation "ousted" her after the incident; mysterious transfers of cash in the billions hit the pockets of numerous Russian government officials. All in exchange for this one plot of land, right here." Betters declared that all in one go, showing another slide with financial documents decorated in marker lines and random words scrabbled next to them. One paper showed a transfer between Armacham and a company well known in the intelligence world as a Russian shell company named Purplespace Inc. worth 350 million. The pattern would go on, sometimes charitable donations worth 40 million and sometimes there would be transfers labeled "Financial Reimbursement. All we're clearly phony and sloppily done, almost as if it was a rush job. Conrad began to speak up.

"Sir, where did we get this information from?" he asked inquisitively. Betters looked over to him with a nod of respect and a startling answer.

"The Russian Government themselves.." he stated matter of fact, leading to everyone's voices raising up, all except the mysterious rookie with the face mask who stood with a dead, cold expressionless look.

Betters spoke up. "...look, I don't like this either. We have word from the Ruskies themselves that they don't want ANYTHING to do with these guys anymore, and they reached out asking for help. Now we can't officially land on shore due to geopolitical issues, but some concerned parties out there want us to take care of whatever we have to. It's mutually beneficial, we get a war criminal and some favors and they get to cover their tracks, so they'll be cooperating with us on this one."

The whole room lit up with even more noise, talking to each other in confusion before Betters slammed his hands together with a violent echo of sorts. This got everyone's attention back on track, like a dog drawn to noise. He sighed in defeat before loosening up his body.

"The upper brass have been in communications and this is what's come up. It reaches all the way to the top, and apparently word got out that Aristide was working on some special project, which we have no fucking clue what it's about. All we know is that for a while now, we've been trying to gather information in cooperation with our Russian contacts. However, since then everything has gone dark. Rumblings of a potential "Synchronicity Event" have been raised but as far as we know, we got nothing." Betters pushed the button to the next slide to show two different women on screen, the names Erica Lin and Manon Petit in bold black lettering underneath each one. Erica Lin had a black bob cut of sorts and was dressed in all black stealth gear, dog tags hanging from her neck and a small hood covering her hair, her actual face covered with a black mask. Manon had dirty blonde hair and had two different pictures, one in an all white hoodie with visibility goggles on and one in a nurse's outfit of sorts, all white and a tattoo on her right arm resembling a swordfish.

"We had a mole.." Betters pointed at Manon's picture with a small pen "..within the facility who helped send back some of the intel and footage we do have. However everything's gone dark for the past week or so. We sent Lin to find out what's going on and potentially extract Manon but nothing's come of it. That's why we're sending you guys around here." Betters flipped back to the previous slide with the mountain range again, pointing at the red circle.

"We don't know where Arazvat-5 is, what it's used for or how much security they have. All we have are coordinates around this location from where some transmissions were sent. For all we know they could be dead; hopefully not but it's possible. And that's where you guys come in." Betters turned around to face the whole squad, this time turning off the slideshow. He picked up some nearby files and threw them out on the table in front of them, spreading it all out.

"Since the collaboration was approved, Delta Force was tasked to go along with the other divisions. Seals, Green Berets; hell, even a Spetsnaz detachment. We were hoping that everything would be normal, but all sides produced static. The Russians are sending out another detachment of Spetsnaz, and you'll be tasked to rendezvous with them at Point A.." Everyone leaned closely as Betters circled around a specific area in the Ural Mountains, which with a deep squint you could recognize a small square. "..it's apparently a small outpost near the city where Armacham's been on guard duty. The Russians will clear it ahead of time, and when you rendezvous with them it's up to you guys to figure out how to get to the city. Once you're in, you'll be splitting up for three objectives: Find our operatives and bring them home by any means necessary if they're alive."

A thumb pops out of Rodney's right hand. "Find out why everyone's gone dark…" The index unsheathed itself from its holster as Rodney quickly followed up.

"And finally: capture Genevieve Aristide by any means necessary. Deadly force is authorized, so do what you have to do here and if anyone opens fire, put them down." Betters had the pictures of Erica, Manon and Genievieve sprawled on top of the table, and a look of worry flushed his face before it forcibly corrected itself.

"Eric when you guys find the city; I want you, Edwin and Blair to apprehend Genevieve. Remember, this woman's actions caused numerous innocent casualties at Fairport. Do what you have to do." Betters usually never talked like this, not in the slightest. Everyone could tell that this was personal to him by now if they hadn't already.

"Conrad, you lead Emily and the new guy to find out what happened to our team." Betters finally finished up while everyone silently read over the files. He put his arms behind his back before preparing one last statement.

"I want this to be an in and out operation, make it quick and get out of there. We don't need any more casualties than it has to be. The Russians will scorch whatever they have to in the next 48 hours. Let's move people." Betters prepared to finalize his speech, rising to leave when one more question arose from the back, this time from Blair who had his hand raised.

"What about the new guy?" Blair asked in a cocky, yet confused attitude. Betters didn't really have much of an answer for him, struggling to come up with anything.. He didn't understand the new guy's placement either, nor did he give a shit at the moment. It felt like a reminder, another twist of the knife in the open wound as it reminded him of his old squad. Jankowski, Jin-Soon-Kwon, the Point Man of the team; all had disappeared at one point or another around the Fairport Incident. Whereas it didn't stain his reputation due to solving the high level crisis, it brought his morale to a dark place.

"What about him?" Betters asked, trying to hide the emotion in his eyes, wary of what to say and questioning every choice. No one could really tell though from his look however.

"Where did he come from, what do we address him as? He just kind of appeared out of nowhere, no disrespect sir." Blair said rather innocently. While he was cocky, he also had a childlike tendency of asking questions at the most inconvenient times.

"Upper Management said to call him "Slate", so address him as such. I don't know where he's from, but I was told that he has high marks across the board and that you should trust him like he's one of our own. Any more questions?"

Silence smothered the room, and everyone had looked at each other before staring straight ahead at Betters again, almost uncomfortably. It didn't matter though, as his job was done.

"No? Good. Start heading out, I'll be in touch soon." Betters said, finally being able to wrap up the meeting. He pressed the remote again to turn off the slideshow before opening the door and leaving the room entirely. When he left and the lights turned back on, the noises filled the air in the meeting room again. However, worry filled his face again whilst walking down the hall as the squad filed out of the room with chatter in the air. Breath had dissipated heavily through his nose before turning around quickly and giving the new guy a glance. All he could think of was that all too familiar feeling all over again, just a constant reminder over his old team. Nothing could be done for them, he was told and then they threw yet another faceless special operative in his lap and told him to play fetch. He didn't like it, but for now he couldn't really do much except snag the elusive bitch, hoping to find answers eventually.

Betters turned around again, and the two groups went their separate ways as nothingness enveloped the room again, covering every inch and surface of all solid matter and forms. Strange premonitions seeped over the halls. Words seemed to echo within itself, phrasings bouncing across the walls and repeating itself over and over again. Suddenly, a female's voice began to bolt.

"Sortes Qui Facit"

Red lights begin to flicker, quickly overwhelming the senses. A strange being begins to shake, the skin peeled back to reveal a series of teeth inside of the area one would consider the stomach. They rotate inside of each other, as if machinery starting up; however nothing is felt as the lights slowly fade down again. White eyes suddenly pop up in the middle of it, a member of the uncanny valley. Nothing moved, but one could hear the letters forming together again. This time the same female voice before begins to speak, though pitched down to an extreme as a snarl accompanies it in the background. Its presence was announced with everything suddenly faded into white. Particles were floating around as if it just came out of a Hadron Collider. The feeling brushed against everyone's cheeks, a soft touch followed by a hard slap. Snow.

"Wake Up".