Blood dripped from the ceiling, as the Gregory walked the corridor. He had been told to come down to the bottom floor for a special assignment, and had been welcomed by that of a blood fest.

Greg worked for a company called The Agency that dealt with extra terrestrial citing. He had moved from Jackson, a small town outside of the city, and had been moved here for weapon specialization.

He stared in disbelieve. Never had a problem this big taken place here at The Agency. The walls were glassed with metal, creating a mirror like ambience, and the blood covered ceiling was created with dry wall. Body parts lay on the floor; arms, fingers, even a single eye ball. It was something out of a horror film.

As he walked hall, M-16 in hand, he could start to see an unlit room in the background. “What the hell?” He said softly, drugging through blood and grime. This wasn’t something he was used to. He mostly just sat in an office, helping out the General with designing, but for some reason he was the one who had been sent down this morning.

“Who are you?!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, “why are you doing this?” Nothing came back, just the dark room ahead, screaming “run away, run away,” as he walked closer and closer.

Above his head dangled a light. It was on a string cable, no fixture or mold. It flickered on and off, causing visions of mice to appear in his head. What kind of sick person would do this? You’d have to have something majorly wrong with you. It was surprising that he hadn’t smelt anything. Dead bodies, chopped up, and blown to bits, it was the massacre of the ages, and best of all, no one knew about it except for him… Or so he thought that was.

Rounding the corner he pointed the light he had on the top of his gun into the abandon room. Inside were garments of clothing thrown all about. It looked as if someone had been strangled, and another’s body lay twitching with newly injected poison running through his veins.

He found a light switch hanging on the wall, and flipped it on. There stood a shrine to something, or someone that shouldn’t have ever been placed. Two bodies hung on either side, blood pouring from their necks. In-between them sat a mirror, 2 by 5, hanging there on the wall.