You (AHC 294)

Be advised: a Code 3 lockdown is in effect. Do not leave your post unless instructed to do so. Do not change your radio’s frequency. Please stay calm.

You hear the loud, piercing emergency signal punctuate the announcement. You know you shouldn’t, know it’s against protocol, but you find yourself turning the volume knob every so slightly so that the even-toned female voice quiets down a bit as she repeats her announcement.

Be advised: a Code 3 lockdown is in effect.

Pretty middle of the road code, you remember. One of the AHCs must have escaped. You recall that a Code 3 means only one AHC loose in the facility. You notice that the voice coming from your radio hasn’t yet told you which of the AHCs to look out for.

Do not leave your post unless instructed to do so.

You tap the toes of your boots on the ground, and it produces a gentle clinking sound. It’s hard to not feel frightened when you’re stationed in a basement tunnel with darkness surrounding you. The air is both stale and damp, like something left sitting in a puddle for far too long.

You fidget with the stun baton in your hand. You’re almost itching at the thought of giving the clever creature a little buzz and sending them on their way. Wouldn’t be the first time. It’s how you survived the Alternate History Facility.

“Who’s that?”

You hear a voice echo down the tunnel, sudden and unexpected. You turn your radio down even more, fail to hear the flat, calming voice say something new.

AHC 294 has breached containment. All personnel report to the nearest safe room in a calm and orderly manner.

“Hello?” you ask the darkness, voice tentative and unsure. Was it a supervisor coming down to check on you? You’d done exactly as the emergency channel told you -

“Show yourself!”

You are sure that voice sounded different from the first one.

“You first!” you exclaim.

All you hear now is the gentle cadence of slow footsteps. You clutch your stun baton and switch it on out of panic. You hear the piercing sound of the emergency signal and turn your radio’s volume back up.

AHC 294 has breached containment. Humanoid class. Shapeshifter. Mimics humanoid voice -

You’ve heard enough. It’s time to go. You start walking north down the hallway to the closest elevator, and your stun baton crackles and sparks with blue light with every step you take.

You reach the elevator and see that it’s locked down too.

It’s too late now.

Heavy steps from behind you cause the metal grate covering the ground to tremor. You turn around to face whatever is here with you.

“Oh,” you sigh. It’s only your supervisor. He must have come down here to look for you.

“I thought I was a goner.”

Your supervisor says nothing. He only stares at you with hollow eyes.

“I said,” you begin again, “I thought I was a goner.”

“Show yourself!”

Your heart stops and you feel your body freeze. It’s already too late.

It’s seen you. It’s heard you.

The creature, because that’s what this really is, slides in and out of focus as its true form emerges. It licks its jowls, and leaps.

Now, instead of two bodies, there is only one. It looks just like you, skin a little paler, eyes a little more vacant. It drops your baton and your radio to the ground and begins walking further down the hall.

AHC 294 has breached containment. Humanoid class. Shapeshifter. Mimics humanoid voice. Will attack on sight. Do not engage. Do not acknowledge other employees until you’ve reached a designated safe room.

Soon, it will find that nice boy you wanted to have a cup of coffee with. Your voice will ring light and sweet, but it is not you.

It is AHC 294.

“I thought I was a goner.”

You

“Chae-bisou, are you all right?” Sajangnim asks.

“I’m alive,” you mutter. “Just - give me a moment.”

“We should get back to camp,” Sajangnim says. “Come on.” And he picks you up.

“Sajangnim!” you protest, but he keeps walking.

“You can put me down. If I just lean on you -” you begin, but he shakes his head.

“This is faster.”

“I’m getting you all muddy.”

“I told you, I’m not afraid of getting a little dirty.”

Your ankle is seriously irritating you, and also you now notice how nice he smells. “Please, Sajangnim -”

And it starts to rain.

“There - a shelter up ahead.” He tightens his hold on you and speeds up.

Because you are camping in a national park, there are little rest shelters all through the forest for hikers to use. The one Sajangnim spotted is in good repair, dark wood, benches on three sides, space for a little fire pit in the middle. He sets you down on one of the benches gently.

“Let me see your ankle.”

“I’d rather get the mud off.”

“Take off your shoe,” he says, and you obey, because you always obey.

But then Sajangnim strips off his t-shirt, which isn’t nearly as muddy as yours, and goes to hold it out in the rain. He wrings it out a few times, and then he lets it soak some more. He returns to you, uses the t-shirt to wipe the mud off your clothes as best as he can.

“No, Sajangnim, your t-shirt is expensive -”

“I can buy another. Hold still.”

You submit, tense beneath Sajangnim’s gentle hands. Sajangnim goes to rinse his shirt out again, and then he wraps it around your right ankle.

“Does that help?”

“Yes,” you admit, trying to be polite. Before today, you have been sure that Sajangnim is incapable of tending to anyone with an ailment or being this gentle, because Sajangnim is brilliant and hardworking and doesn’t tend to have much patience for those who aren’t on his level, though occasionally he manages a dose of condescension.<

“Thank you,” you add, because Sajangnim looks terribly anxious.

At that, Sajangnim sits back. “I’m sorry I made you fall.”

“It wasn’t you. It’s muddy out there. It’s even muddier now, I’m sure.”

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