"And that blond kid with the stupid name? He mag-dumped an M-14 
DMR into a man's head from a distance of 300 yards. In about two 
seconds." 


"Hm," the smiling man said. 
"Care to explain?" 


The smiling man stared into the sunset for a long while. When the 
sun had finally disappeared behind the hills, and only the grey 
twilight remained, he finally spoke. "Arms research tends to focus on 
the exotic. Politicians and generals want big, flashy, exciting 
advancements. Aircraft carriers. Fighter jets. Tanks. An immortal 
warrior with magic swords. But if you ask a soldier what he really 
wants, the answers get more prosaic. A better rifle that never jams. 
A communications system that doesn't cut out. Pants that don't rip." 


"... a Sniper who never misses a clean shot?" 
"Mmm." 


"| thought those were the types of people your outfit was supposed 
to kill." 


"Our job is to protect humanity from the paranormal, yes. But the 
line between the normal and paranormal is often... fuzzy." The 
smiling man checked his watch and stood up. "Now if you'll excuse 
me, | have a meeting with NASA. Seems like there might be 
something odd going on with the Hartle Anomaly. Good evening, 
General." 


+ Related Documents 


Diary Entry: Randolph T. Metzger, 
1896 


The deal's been made. | regret nothing. 
Necessary sacrifices. All of them. 


Simply good business. 
The Investor has promised much. 


And soon, I'll be richer than Croesus. 


Unsent Letter: Brianna O'Donnel, 
1897 


Mum, 


This money should get you through the next 
month. Send my love to sis. Tell her | got her 
letter. 


Good news! Mr. Metzger's a changed man! 
The new factory is a marvel to behold and the 
dormitories are so spacious! He said it isn't 
even finished yet. He even plans to increase 
our wages. Did the protests really get through 
to him? | don't know but he seems sincere, 
always a smile on his face. The girls are just 
as happy. Says the factory is going to be a 
model for the world! We don't feel just like 
workers anymore. Like, we're part of 
something bigger now? It ain't equal to Mr. 
Metzger but it's certainly an improvement. 
Haven't seen his family in awhile. His wife and 
boys used to visit a lot. 


Sincerely, 


Items from a Global Occult Coalition Document Bag 


Threat ID: LTE-3503-Silver ("Vector") 


Authorized Response Level: N/A (Confirmed Destroyed, File 
Archived) 


Description: Subject was a human female of mixed European 
descent. Aside from deviations from normal listed below, subject 
was in all other aspects a baseline-normal human. Although no 
verifiable personal identification was found on the subject at the time 
of death, circumstantial evidence indicates that she was an 
American of approximately 19 years of age. 


Subject was a "Type Silver" infectious hazard, limited to organisms 
of single-cell or simpler complexity. Subject possessed immunity to 
all forms of bacterial and viral infections, as well as the ability to 
extract bacteria and viruses from infected individuals and cultivate 
any such organism capable of infecting a human being within her 
own body. Subject also possessed the ability to deliver said 
infectious agents to other individuals by airborne aerosol distribution. 


At the time of liquidation, subject was host to over one thousand 
infectious agents, including Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV), 
several dozen strains of influenza, as well as several instances of E. 
coli and bubonic plague. 


Liquidation: Subject was first encountered in mainland China 
during a SARS epidemic, where she was seen passing through 
quarantine wards engaging in close contact with an infected 
individual. Individual was categorized as a Level 0 person of interest 
when the aforementioned infectee later recovered from their illness 
at an unusually rapid pace. 


Subject was later encountered in Africa during an outbreak of Ebola 
"Zaire." Again, subject was seen engaging in close contact with an 
infected individual who later recovered from what is normally a fatal 


stage of Ebola infection. GOC Assessment Team "Jellybean" made 
initial contact with the subject at her hotel room in Johannesburg, 
South Africa. Subject then caused the death of team leader "Cotton" 
by rapid-onset necrotizing fasciitis, at which point the remaining 
team members fired upon the subject with their sidearms, 
terminating her life. 


Subject's hotel room was declared a Level 4 Biohazard threat, and a 
WHO rapid-response team was dispatched to secure and sterilize 
the area. Further investigation of the subject's belongings revealed a 
personal manifesto, the text of which is reproduced below. It is 
believed that the manifesto was intended to be released after a 
planned release of the subject's infectious payload in an unknown 
city in Germany. 


As no verifiable personal information was found on the subject at the 
time of her death, no Information Control measures are required. 
The case file was closed on // . 


Appendix 1: Text of Personal Manifesto 
Dear Fat Cats, Assholes, Sheeple, and Oligarchs, 


You see now what one angry girl can do, right? You see 
now what happens when an entire country forgets about 
the things they did? Six million Jewish lives scream out 
for vengeance, and Germany lives on, fat and happy, 
drinking the blood of the children they killed. Not today. 
Today those Nazi fascists have gotten a taste of their 
own medicine. And you're next. 


You can't stop me. You can't control me. I'm everyone 
and everything. If you don't do what | say, Germany is 
going to just be the start. There's only one way to 
prevent it: STOP ACTING LIKE ASSHOLES AND 
START GIVING A SHIT. 


1. There are too many poor people in the world living on 
stale rice and muddy water while fat rich bitches throw 
away half their mongolian barbecue trays at the food 
court at the mall. This has to stop. No one should be 


hungry, and the rich fucks need to be dragged out into 
the street and hanged. 


2. What did whales ever do to those Japanese assholes 
anyway? If the Japanese CANNIBALS don't stop 
MASSACREING THE WHALES, then Tokyo's going to 
think a nuclear bomb got dropped on it AGAIN. 


3. STOP THE GLOBAL WARMING NOW. Why should 
oil companies profit off of the SLOW STRANGULATION 
OF OUR MOTHER EARTH? No one needs a car 
anyway. BAN GREENHOUSE GASSES RIGHT NOW 
OR YOU'RE GOING TO SEE WHAT IT REALLY LOOKS 
LIKE WHEN YOU CAN'T BREATHE AND THE 
TEMPERATURE RISES. 


None of this is hard. All it requires is that you give a 
FUCKING SHIT and stop acting like a TOTAL ASSHOLE 
to each other. 


I'm watching you. And I'm waiting. 
VECTOR. 


The document was signed with a crudely hand-drawn picture of a 
biohazard symbol. 


Threat ID: KTE-1027-Grey "Skulljumper" 
Authorized Response Level: 3 (Moderate Threat) 


Description: Organism closely resembles a human Central Nervous 
System (CNS) adapted to survival outside of a human body. 
Organism consists of a brain, spinal cord, nervous system, and 
associated visual and auditory sensory inputs. Deviations from 
baseline human normal include a thickened myelin sheathing, and 
full-length glial coatings, permeable to neurotransmitter compounds. 
Organism seems to rely on these neurotransmitter compounds for 
survival: feeding is accomplished by close contact, through a 
process similar to osmosis. Prolonged parasitism will result in the 
death of the host due to asphyxiation and disruption of bodily 


functions. 


Reproduction is carried out through a process similar to budding: 
upon encountering a deceased human central nervous system of 
sufficient integrity, organism will deliver a modified dopamine 
compound and 150 millivolt electrical charge to the brain through the 
auditory canal. The nervous system will then detach itself from the 
host body, forming a new instance of KTE-1027-Grey. 


Rules of Engagement: Instances of KTE-1027-Grey are to be 
terminated by gunfire: close contact is not recommended. Although 
not particularly fast, the organism has been observed attacking from 
ambush. On at least one instance, a GOC Strike Team member was 
infected by an instance of this organism, and turned upon his fellow 
team members, resulting in multiple casualties. 


Instances of KTE-1027-Grey feeding upon a host body are more 
problematic. Due to the close proximity to the human host, 
termination by gunfire without injuring or killing the host body can 
often prove impossible. GOC Directive 1027-Grey-Alpha requires 
that GOC operatives prioritize termination of the organism over the 
survival of the host body: Third Mission (Protection) concerns being 
trumped by First and Second Mission (Survival and Concealment) 
requirements. 


In the case of a widespread outbreak, the use of neurological toxins 
has been proven effective. As this would require an escalation of 
Response Level from 3 (Moderate) to Response Level 4 (Severe), 
operatives should obtain permission from higher authority before 
carrying out a plan utilizing said nerve agents. Operatives are, of 
course, expected to take any measures necessary in an emergency, 
but should expect their actions to be reviewed by a Court of Inquiry. 


PERSONNEL FILE: FIELD 
OPERATIVE SK-107 (Retired) 


Code Name: "Snapshot" 


GOC Serial Number: 447-2109-Exeter-Manchester-Spade 


Service Record 


2006: Recruited into the Global Occult Coalition through the 
Special Assets Directive. 

2007: Refused transfer to United States Special Operations 
program "Pandora's Box." Upon completion of Level 1 
training, fast-tracked to Special Circumstances. 

2008: Completed Level 2 training, assigned to Special Agent 
Masipag as a part of Special Circumstances Team "Kodiak." 
2009: Involved in incident surrounding defense of GOC 
safehouse "Warlock" from LTE-1810-Casper. Received 
commendation for saving the lives of several GOC operatives. 
2011: Retired from full-time service. Placed on Reserve List. 
Currently serving as a freelance Special Circumstances agent. 
Civilian identity is that of a freelance portrait and landscape 
photographer. Classified as Response Level 0: Evaluations by 
a GOC handler should be carried out on a quarterly basis. 


Skills Assessment 


Basic Skills Training in standard firearms array (pistol, 
shotgun, scoped and unscoped rifle, submachinegun, light 
machine gun). 

Completed Tier One management training. 

Completed Tier Two infiltration and human intelligence 
training. 


Alterations and Talents 


Possesses the unusual ability to see through photographs, 
viewing the location photographed in real time, and to 
manipulate objects within the photograph's reach. Research 
into the nature of this ability is ongoing, but appears to be a 
low-level Type Green (Reality Manipulation) effect. 


Notable Kills 


« None 


Addenda: Recommendation of Deactivation With Honor by Personnel 
Director "Ukelele" 


Agent "Snapshot" has served with distinction and honor 
for over four years. However, in recent months, the 
demands of field duty have caused increased stress and 
psychological difficulties, particularly around the issue of 
taking human life, which Agent Snapshot appears 
incapable of doing. It is estimated that a psychological 
breakdown may occur within the next two years. 


In the interests of preserving a useful asset to the 
Coalition, it is my recommendation that Agent Snapshot 
be removed from active service from Special 
Circumstances and placed in Reserves. Agent Snapshot 
has agreed to serve the Global Occult Coalition on a 
freelance basis, should any circumstances arise that 
require her special talents. 


On a more personal note: | have had the opportunity to 
observe Agent Snapshot in action several times over the 
past few years. Her courage and dedication to the Global 
Occult Coalition has never been in doubt. | wish Agent 
Snapshot the best of luck in her new life, and wish her 
happiness and peace. 


- Director "Ukelele" 


Finding The Machine 


We were prepared for war. It was obvious our mission was important 
from the start. Oftentimes, a manager or vice president would send 
their good graces before a mission, but seeing you was a rare event. 
We simply heard your announcements on the loud speakers, or 
received your signature at the bottom of a letter. Sending out a 
platoon for a raid on a residential farmhouse was quite uncommon 
as well - seemed a touch excessive at first, but when we were 
briefed that we were butting heads against the Church of the Broken 
God, the reasons became more clear. The last encounter we had 
with those bastards ended in flames, with the prize destroyed as a 
result. 


They had something we wanted, of course. Our plant informed us 
the Church had quite the peculiar object in their possession. All | 
was told was that it excels in both improving and taking apart any 
object placed inside. This information alone made it invaluable. 
None of us wanted to know what the Church was planning with such 
a device, but if we knew their intentions well enough, it would be 
best for everyone if we confiscated the device. 


Before we arrived, we expected a number of things to be in our way; 
guardsmen patrolling the area, large, grisly automatons, snipers 
from the rooftops, of all the things that could have feasibly been 
there. Few things could have been more off. Instead of the heavily 
armed fortress we were anticipating, we found that no one was 
patrolling the perimeter and the dwelling appeared entirely empty. 


We suspected that they might have been expecting us. Perhaps our 
plant was discovered, and they anticipated that we'd make an 
attempt to claim the machine for ourselves. But if that was the case, 
why in the heavens would they leave what was most likely one of 
their utmost holy relics completely unguarded? None of us wanted to 
be hasty and jump to any conclusions, so we devised a course of 
action. 


The barn reeked of death as soon as we passed through those 
thrice-damned barn doors. It was previously utilized as the center of 
worship, but at the time of our exploration, it was closer to a ghost 
town. Pews were either propped up against doors or used as 
barricades, and refuse was littering the dirt floor. We spotted a man 
at the far back of the chapel. Very slender figure, blond hair, and 
sporting a blue robe: probably part of the choir. The man was 
leaning on a podium, his back turned to us, giving me the 
impression that the poor sod was crying. We ordered him to get 
down on his knees, but he didn't give a response. | went up to 
restrain him, but... | apologize, sir, I'm at a loss about how to put this 
in words. The instant | laid a hand on him, he fell to the ground. The 
entirety of his front half of his body was flayed, freely exposing his 
bones and muscle. 


We were all appalled by this, but none of us moved. After a brief 
moment, we continued our search, and came across a cellar door 
buried underneath a stack of pews. Two of the other squad 
members were ordered to remove the benches from the door. We 
stacked up against the door, and upon opening, several men and 
women were on the other side, facing our direction, with their backs 
flayed in a similar manner to the man on the pew. 


They weren't moving, but they all looked as if they were making an 
attempt to crawl out of the cellar with a look of horror on what was 
left of their faces, as if they were frozen in time. We reported our 
findings to the rest of the platoon through our radio, and called for 
reinforcements. We haven't a clue if this was an anomalous plague 
of some kind, but we were unprepared for it if it was as such.