Chapter 23: Flight into the Mouth of Madness
Elena lowered her gaze, resignation in her eyes. "Alright," she said softly, "there's something even riskier… but faster. In the hidden STARS hangar is an unregistered helicopter we use for undercover operations. It isn't in the system. If you take it, you can reach the mansion before the secure channel closes."
Richard frowned. "Is it operational?"
"Almost," Elena replied, rubbing her temple. "We've kept it functional just in case… but you'll have to start it manually. Once it's in the air, there's no turning back. Umbrella will notice the takeoff if anyone is monitoring the flight paths."
Rebecca sat up straighter, her eyes fierce. "Then we have to do it quickly."
Elena reached out and handed them a small black magnetic card with a gold edge. "Take this," she said. "Master code. It will give you access to the platform. It's on the lower level, behind the old archives. But you have to move now."
Richard took the card with a curt nod. "Thanks, Elena."
Elena managed a sad smile. "There are still people in STARS who haven't sold their souls. Find them. Bring them back."
Rebecca glanced at the card, then at Elena's hopeful face. She swallowed hard, tension knotting in her stomach. "And if we don't find them… at least we'll know the truth."
They slipped down the narrow hallway toward the hidden hangar, moving fast through the dim corridors of the STARS base. The door to the landing platform was heavy and cold in their hands. When it slid open, they were exposed to the night air and the red emergency lights of the hangar.
The hidden STARS platform was a small hangar built into the hillside. Thick steel doors lifted up to the night sky. Inside, dim red lights glowed over the space. At the center rested a matte black helicopter, silent and still. It bore no markings, only its dark canopy and rotor blades in repose.
Elena remained at the doorway, watching anxiously. "Hurry," she urged. "I can't stay. If anyone spots you, I'm dead."
Arklay's cold night air seeped in as they climbed into the helicopter. The cockpit smelled of oil and metal. The controls were old and analog – a relic of another era.
Richard slid into the pilot's seat and brushed the controls. "Do you know how to fly this?" Rebecca asked, strapping on her gear beside him.
He nodded with resolve. "I learned on this type of bird long ago. It's loud, but it'll get us there."
Elena handed them a heavy black backpack. "Ammo, flares, and a short-range transmitter," she said. "Use it to mark the zone when you arrive. The secure channel closes in one hour—then it'll be too late."
Richard simply nodded and took the bag. Rebecca placed a reassuring hand on Elena's shoulder. "We'll make it count. We'll tell everyone what happened."
Elena's eyes glistened. "Just live," she whispered. "And tell the story."
Richard flipped the ignition. The engine thundered to life, filling the cockpit with vibration. Rotor blades spun overhead. Elena ducked as the wind kicked up dirt from the hangar floor. In seconds the heavy doors rumbled open and the helicopter lifted into the Arklay night.
Rebecca pressed herself into her seat as the clearing disappeared below. Red hangar lights flickered in the distance behind them. She peered into the dark forest, the treetops closing in around the valley like black waves. Richard's knuckles turned white on the controls. He didn't speak; the tension in the cockpit was thick.
Above, the forest spread out like an endless sea of black. Thick fog swallowed the moonlight. Below, the forest paths and clearings cut through the trees. Faint glows from distant campfires dotted the terrain.
Richard gave her a quick, reassuring nod as they flew on. The only sounds were the whine of the rotor and a faint pop of static from the radio. There were no friendly voices on the secure channel now — only the unsettling silence of a night watch kept entirely by shadows.
Rebecca studied the navigation tablet. "Keep us steady," she murmured. "Brad's map should show the landing zone soon."
Richard nodded. "Got it. We should see the clearing soon," he replied, peering into the dark.
Moments later, Rebecca tapped the side of the glass above her head. "There – over there!" she exclaimed, voice tense. "That clearing to the east. It looks like where the Alpha landed."
Richard landed slowly. The skids scraped the treetops and touched down with a low groan. Instantly the engine cut out. A sudden hush fell, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.
Rebecca and Richard unbuckled and stepped out into the cold, damp grass. The clearing was eerily still. Around them, the ground was trampled flat. Under a nearby oak, dark patches of something gleamed in the moonlight.
"Footprints and tire tracks," Rebecca murmured, scanning the ground. "And... is that blood?" She knelt to examine a dark stain under the oak.
"Yeah," Richard said quietly, tone grim. "Looks fresh."
The smell of blood was strong. A torn white tarp and broken gear lay scattered nearby. Rebecca's heart pounded and she tightened her grip on her rifle. "Stay sharp," she whispered.
Rebecca and Richard edged into the forest, following a narrow deer path. The woods were silent. Every few steps, Rebecca's flashlight revealed evidence: a discarded bag, a piece of torn denim snagged on a branch. Tension built with each discovery.
Rebecca held up a hand. A few feet ahead lay a body half-hidden in the undergrowth. It was Joseph, a young STARS teammate. He lay face-down; his uniform was shredded and dried blood caked the back of his neck. His empty gun lay a few feet away.
Richard knelt down and gently turned Joseph onto his back. The man's eyes stared blankly upward. Four deep puncture wounds marked one side of his neck, and his vest was torn to rags.
Rebecca swallowed and pulled on surgical gloves. She probed the punctures. The wounds were deep and jagged, as if from teeth and claws. She looked up at Richard. "Bites… claws. Whoever—or whatever—did this was out to kill."
Richard nodded grimly. "It's brutal. He didn't stand a chance."
Rebecca shook off a chill and steadied her rifle. The night air felt colder now, each breath visible. In her mind she wondered: How many? Where were they?
From deeper in the forest came a low, guttural roar. It was not human. It vibrated through their chests.
Rebecca's mind raced. Adrenaline surged through her veins, sharpening her focus. She shook off the fear and raised the shotgun, ready for the first attack.
"They're Cerberus," Richard said. Rebecca's heart sank. "Infected dogs," she breathed. Richard's grip tightened on the pistol. Suddenly a pale, mangy shape burst from the trees – a snarling dog with burning red eyes. "Get down!" he yelled. Rebecca rolled to the ground and fired her shotgun. The first beast exploded under the blast.
Two more leapt out of the darkness. Richard snapped off short bursts from his pistol: one dog's skull shattered under the shots, and it crashed down twitching. Another lunged for Richard; he twisted out of its jaws and fired point-blank, dropping it. Rebecca scrambled up just in time to see a fourth dog rushing her. She dove aside and fired backward – the dog yelped and collapsed.
Silence settled. Only the echo of the last gunshot hung in the air. Rebecca wiped sweat and grime from her brow. "You alright?" she panted.
Richard flexed his arm; blood had seeped through the torn sleeve. "Just scratches," he said with a grim smile. "We need to move. We can't stay here."
Rebecca swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but there was no going back now. She double-checked the shotgun slung on her back and signaled Richard forward. They crept down the narrow deer path into the woods, each snapped twig underfoot echoing like gunfire in the night.
Rebecca glanced at the fallen dogs, bile rising at the sight. She forced down her nausea and nodded. "Alright," she whispered. "Let's keep moving." Richard wiped his pistol clean with a ragged breath. Together they moved toward the looming shadow of Spencer Mansion.
They stepped back into moonlight and saw Spencer Mansion looming before them. Ivy and black mold clung to its columns. White walls were stained and windows were shattered. Even the great oak front doors stood slightly ajar.
Rebecca's voice trembled. "Someone got here before us."
Richard's jaw tightened. "The Alpha team was here first," he said. "And they never came out."
Inside, broken moonlight cut through dusty air. The once-grand foyer was huge and ruined. Tall stone columns lined the hall. A shredded red carpet led toward the double staircase. Furniture lay overturned and broken on the floor. The air was thick with dust and a stale, sick smell.
Rebecca forced herself to take off her heavy pack and fiddle with the flashlight filters. In the dim red glow of her light, the hall looked like a nightmare come true. "God," she whispered, "I can feel eyes on us already." Richard only nodded, his eyes scanning every shadow. Each floorboard creak made them both flinch.
Rebecca's flashlight beam caught a smear of dried blood on the marble floor near the stairs. She crouched and traced its edge. "They were here… not long ago," she murmured.
Richard brushed away more dust and gasped softly. There, half-buried on the ground, was a spent pistol cartridge. Under his flashlight, the stamp 'S.T.A.R.S.' was visible. He held it up. "A recent shot," he said. "Could be Jill's or Barry's."
Suddenly, a heavy thud sounded from above. Something scraped across the floorboards. The noise echoed through the foyer, breaking the silence.
Rebecca froze. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.
Richard aimed his pistol at the dark staircase. "Yes," he replied. "Something moved up there. Be careful."
Rebecca swept the flashlight across the hall. Torn tapestries hung on the walls, shadows flickering in the corners. A tall grandfather clock stood still at 11:47 PM — the pendulum frozen mid-swing.
Rebecca nodded, steel in her voice. "Okay... slow and steady," she whispered.
Richard mirrored her movement, raising his weapon. Together they stepped down the main hallway, flashlights probing ahead.
They moved carefully over broken debris: toppled books, shattered chairs, dust-coated heirlooms. Every footstep echoed through the empty hall.
Shadows flitted at the edge of their lights. Every crack in the wall felt alive, as if something unseen watched them.
They paused at the bottom of the staircase. Richard pointed upward. On the landing, a heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. "That looks like the only way up from here," he whispered.
Rebecca aimed her light at a heavy wooden double door. Deep claw marks scarred the bottom of one panel. "Looks like something tried to claw its way out," she whispered.
Richard stepped forward, running a finger over the deep scratches. "That was something big," he muttered. He exchanged a glance with Rebecca. "Be ready. This isn't normal."
Rebecca caught a glimpse of her reflection in a cracked mirror. Her eyes were wide, flashlight trembling in her grip. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Ready," she said.
Richard took one more breath and then gently pushed the heavy wooden door open a crack. Rebecca's flashlight beam swept inside.
As the door opened, Rebecca's light illuminated something carved into the frame: a shield with a coiled snake.
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