Love, Death and Robots. Volumes 2 & 3

SPECIAL COMMUNIQUE.

ATTN: COLONEL ADAM LEONARD – DIRECTOR, UNEXPLAINED OCCURRENCE DIVISION.

YOUR EYES ONLY

SUBJECT – DISAPPEARANCE OF EPSILON TEAM, NORTH OF KANDAHAR, AFTER TRACKING ENEMY INSURGENTS TO UNDERGROUND HIDEOUT.

SURVIVORS – 1: LANCE CORPORAL PAUL BROWN, MEDIC.

REPORT: After non-response from Epsilon Team for thirty-six (36) hours after their last communique, a second squad was sent to investigate. They found Lance Corporal Paul Brown of Epsilon stumbling through foothills some seven (7) kilometres south of Epsilon Team’s last known whereabouts. Brown was wearing nothing but ragged underwear and his helmet, raving and largely incoherent, his left arm below the elbow was just bone, no hand, the flesh stripped away presumably by acid or a similar agent. His body was covered in various other wounds, some similar to his arm (though none as severe) and others clearly made from impacts, falls, scrapes, etc. He carried no gear except a flashlight, which he pointedly refused to relinquish. He made almost no sense except one phrase, repeated over and over: “Never let it out! Never let it out!” Current assessment by psychologists suggests Brown may never recover his faculties, but therapy has been started. His extensive injuries are being treated and are responding satisfactorily.

We’re still trying to establish further facts but are preparing an incursion squad to Epsilon’s last known whereabouts. Due to your standing request to be informed of any unusual occurrences, I am sending this wire. Our squad will be entering the cave at the last known location of Epsilon Team at 0800 tomorrow, the 14^th, should you wish to accompany them.

Please advise.

END.

JIBARO

Alberto Mielgo

EXT. FOREST - AFTERNOON

A procession of mounted knights ride through the forest. They are led by several dark-robed priests bearing silver crosses and CHANTING in Latin. Their path winds beneath a green canopy of tall, thick birch trees. Rusting IRON CRUCIFIXES and moss-covered, derelict ancient shrines mark the path they follow. The group makes camp near a small, green lake. It is serene; the water is deep and still, but the vegetation surrounding the lake seems OFF somehow - lush, but sickly in color. Birds soar above the lake, coming close to the water’s surface yet never diving in.

JIBARO, a towering deaf - mute knight, with a brutal, almost archaic appearance, has left the camp and walks along the shores of the lake, gazing into the shallows. For a moment, we “hear” through his ears and see the world through his eyes.

SILENCE.

Jibaro kneels to drink; beneath the rippling surface, a gleam of metal catches his eye. He reaches in and takes hold of the object. It is lodged at first, but as Jibaro pulls harder, it comes free. The bright object glows in Jibaro’s hand, nearly blinding him. He shakes his head, squinting, and can just make out a GOLDEN SCALE resting in his palm. He glances around to check if he is alone and then, stuffs it in his pouch. Jibaro continues around the shore, searching for more golden scales.