Genesis. Volume 2

October 4, 1986. Detroit. Ford Park Factory. Day. They trudged back to that brick behemoth just an hour later. Arthur spent the whole walk twirling Marcus's key between his fingers, while Max kept reaching into his pocket to feel the knife handle. The sky overhead remained as dull and gray as ever, and the air hung with that cloying, sour tang of soot. But at least now they knew what they were up against. "That thing spotted us," Max spat into the withered grass by the fence. "It definitely remembers us." "Good," Emma shrugged indifferently. "Less time wasted on introductions." The iron door gave way with the same grating, ear-splitting screech. Inside, they were met by the familiar gray twilight, rows of silent cast-iron machines, and thick rust. And silence, of course. The group moved forward in a chain, staying close to the left wall. Lisa walked slightly sideways, clutching her open sketchbook and sharpened pencil as she went. Soon they reached a massive concrete column—the very spot where everyone's nerves had failed them last time. "So, do we push on?" Max stopped, looking at Arthur. "We go. Let's see what's there," Arthur gave a short nod. Lisa was the first to peer cautiously around the concrete support and step forward, immediately beginning to sketch the new bay. Clear strokes appeared on the page—wall outlines, doorways, dark corridors. The graphite rustled softly against the heavy paper, keeping time with her uneven breathing. The thing didn't appear right away. First, a suffocating wave of heat hit their legs. Literally a second later, the air directly in front of them rippled thickly and shimmered at eye level, like above a scorching road in the height of summer. Arthur reacted instantly: he grabbed Lisa by her jacket and yanked her back behind the column. The formless gray haze drifted lazily over the rusty metal, smoothly curving around the massive supports. The creature didn't try to lunge at them; it simply hovered close by, at arm's length. Jenny exhaled sharply—the red thread on her wrist gave a powerful pulse of heat. At that same moment, somewhere deep inside her, it was as if an important switch had been flipped off. There was no pain, just a frightening emptiness in her head. Jenny frantically tried to pull the face of that boy she'd kissed at last year's party out of her memory. And she couldn't. The name was erased. The outline of his lips, his smile—it all just evaporated. Only a vague knowledge remained that it had happened, but with whom—total blank. "It took it," Jenny said quietly, almost lifelessly, staring ahead. "My first kiss. I even forgot his name." "What do you mean—name? What name?" Max stared at her in confusion. "I told you—I don't remember." Her voice was frighteningly flat, but Emma noticed how tightly Jenny had clenched her fists, her knuckles white. "Alright, back off," Arthur ordered quietly but firmly. The gray shadow swayed smoothly toward them. But the moment the suffocating haze touched the very edge of the paper sheet Lisa was clutching, the Void recoiled sharply. As if it had hit a red-hot frying pan. Lisa froze, blinked in surprise, and then stubbornly thrust her sketchbook out in front of her. The shadow retreated another step into the darkness. "It won't touch the drawing," Lisa whispered excitedly. "It's actually afraid of these lines." "Draw a circle!" Arthur quickly assessed the situation. "Right around us!" Lisa dropped to her knees in the factory dust in an instant. She fished a piece of chalk from her pocket—the same one she'd grabbed by the gate—and began furiously scraping it across the gray concrete. Curved arcs, protective horseshoes, and thick intersecting lines emerged from under her hand. The creature stopped at the very edge of the white line, as if hitting a solid wall. The air inside that uneven circle immediately grew cooler, easier to breathe. "This protection won't last long," Lisa stood up, wiping her chalk-covered palms on her jeans. "Chalk rubs off easily." "It's enough for now," Arthur quickly looked around. "Max, keep the exit in your sights. Emma, stay close to Jenny." The Void froze in place. It slowly billowed before them, shimmering with dirty shades of gray smoke. But if you looked closely, deep within that suffocating cloud, human faces appeared from time to time—blurred, barely discernible masks of the unfortunate souls whose memories this thing had drained dry. "Look at that, it's not coming in," Max relaxed his shoulders but didn't put the knife away. "It's waiting," Jenny replied quietly, still cradling her burning hand. "We're just another meal to it. But right now, it's not hungry. It fed on the ones who came before us." "The workers from the old newspapers?" Lisa shuddered. "The ones who left nothing but faceless bodies?" "Who the hell knows, maybe it's just in no rush," Emma muttered. Arthur shifted his gaze from the quivering shadow to the open door behind them. "That's it. We're done here. We've had enough for today." He carefully took Lisa by the elbow and steered her toward the exit. The others followed in unison, trying not to make any sudden moves. The creature made no attempt to follow; it simply saw them off with its terrible, invisible gaze. And the moment Max, who was bringing up the rear, stepped across the threshold, all remaining light vanished deep inside the workshop—even the dim gray daylight from the windows dissolved into pitch darkness. Arthur pulled the iron door shut with force and turned the key in the rusty lock twice. "I'm telling you, it's got our scent and it won't forget us," Max exhaled noisily, tucking the knife back into his pocket. "It would have remembered us even without that," Jenny leaned tiredly against the brickwork. "By our blood. The Brooks name is like an old acquaintance to it." Emma flicked her lighter and took a long, satisfying drag of her cigarette, letting out a thin stream of smoke to steady her trembling fingers. "Alright. Tomorrow we come back properly prepared. With real blueprints and a solid plan." "And we definitely bring Jenny with us," Arthur added, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Her blood and that scent are our only working pass inside." They turned and trudged back down the broken road toward the motel. Lisa paused for a second, looking back at the abandoned factory shell. The building's windows gaped black and dead. But for a moment, the girl thought she saw someone watching them from that impenetrable darkness. Someone completely without eyes and without a face. Someone who knew how to wait very, very well.