B#2 #5

P#1 slowly lifted his gaze downwards to meet mine. They were a light gray, which was an odd contrast to the dull gray on the walls. It was clear by the look of his expression that I wasn't welcome.

"My name is David, it's nice meeting you. What is your name?" I tried to say in my most polite voice, but I feared it came out as if I was talking to a child.

"...My name?" Patient #1 spoke in confusion, as if he hadn't gave it much thought before. "Flynn."

His tone had changed considerably, and his face was less grim now. I see the others that came in here weren't very friendly. Many victims of S#00 have I read about, but Flynn was an odd one, as if he was bordering sanity and insanity. This is a chance for me to potentially help a scarred young man, and to unearth some details of S#00 at the same time.

"Flynn, I think you know why you're here. We don't want to forcibly keep you here, but we can't let you go yet either. If you do your best to cooperate with us, I will see to your release." Speaking in a professional manner is my much preferred style, despite sounding a little stale at times. The young man thought to himself for a long moment before nodding his head slightly. At least he was more stable now.

I pulled a notepad along with a pencil out of my bag and held it out to Flynn. "Can you draw... Him for me?" Many times have I heard of people drawing S#00 as a way of self-therapy and to fight their fears to an extent, P#1 grabbed the pencil and began to scribble; but when he gave it back it was just a drawing of a stick figure.

"This is my friend. He was named David just like you." Flynn said softly as he smiled, but it quickly faded.

"Really? That's funny, maybe you can take me to meet him one day."

"...Maybe you don't want to."

CASE #2 #1

Nothing was going particularly well lately. I hadn't been getting anything done correctly, and time was running out. Our branch's goal is plain and simple, gather information on S#00; maybe they plan on bringing in another branch to detain #00 after we've got enough progress, but I am not certain. I must simply do what my job tells me to do.

At periods of inactivity I pace my house and look at situations from various viewpoints. It feels like my mind must always be working towards a goal. Due to S#00 appearing in multiple locations all over the country, most of the time i'm forced to use temporary residence such as a hotel during cases. Home is one of the only places where I really feel "safe". Deep inside I can feel at ease. But several things still bothered me, the identity of the person that sent me the coordinates to where Belial was. How they knew my occupation, and his location, still eludes me. Not to mention the entirety of the Black Forest, something that will require future investigation, preferably with another person aiding me.

HQ was getting less and less frequent with their assignments, each coming with more and more vague details. Current assignment? "Gather Intel". That really narrows it down a bit.

After reading all of our recorded incidents I developed a system to locate potential victim that could be involved in the S#00 case. Several states had much higher activity than others, and there is where I can look for missing people and the like. But as I was doing this, my phone went off. A series of numbers sent in a text. More coordinates. Graciously sent by a fellow named "Night" this time. Obviously a name you can trust a hundred percent, after all, when has someone with a vague nickname ever done wrong to you?

It's my only lead at the moment, and if this is the same person that sent the last message, it may lead me to another victim.

B#2 #4

We all took turns bringing Patient #1 his meals alone, and try to strike up a conversation. A week had already passed and we hadn't progressed as quickly as we expected. No new information, nothing to send back to HQ, nothing at all. My turn to serve had come. I wasn't sure what to say, as i'm sure just going right down to business would be unfavorable. Reminding a mentally unstable person of traumatic events could never go well. Only a month was given to us for our research, and then it was back to standard fare.

The door we used to keep P#1 from simply walking out was nothing fancy, as there was no need for complexity here; just a dull gray color with a small window to see inside that was kept locked with a normal bolt. Peering through the window to check that the patient wasn't asleep, and walked inside.

It was clear that P#1's mental health had degraded, but what we didn't expect was his physical health to improve in some areas. His skin was very pale and sickly looking, his eyes had awful dark circles underneath them, and his hair had partially turned gray from stress; but in all other matters he was perfectly healthy and even above average. It was a mystery to all of us.

More dull gray walls, little furniture, no sunlight, and a lone camera in the corner. Not the most extravagant room by any means. Patient #1 sat on his crude bed, swinging his feet back and forth while seemingly drifting off into his own world. He couldn't be no older than seventeen. A sad sight, to see someone so young be broken to this extent. I placed the plate and glass on the table in front of him and sat down in the only chair in the room.

"Eyes over here, please." I asked in a considerate tone. The only way to get information here is to play it safe.