"INFINITE DOSAGE" _ Case File #013

Summary

Redwood Bureau: Episode "INFINITE DOSAGE" – Case File #013 Summary

Podcast Information:

• Title: Redwood Bureau
• Host/Author: Eeriecast Network
• Episode: "INFINITE DOSAGE" _ Case File #013
• Release Date: January 18, 2025

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Introduction

In the gripping episode titled "INFINITE DOSAGE" (Case File #013) of the Redwood Bureau podcast, hosted by the Eeriecast Network, listeners delve deeper into the shadowy operations of the Redwood Bureau through the eyes of Agent Conroy. This episode not only unravels a chilling narrative surrounding a mysterious street drug but also exposes the sinister motives of the Bureau, setting the stage for a tense cat-and-mouse game between Agent Conroy and the clandestine organization.

Plot Overview

The episode kicks off with a seamless blend of narrative storytelling and Agent Conroy’s revelations. The central plot revolves around a disturbing new street drug that extends beyond mere chemical dependencies, introducing supernatural and terrifying effects on its users. Through Agent Conroy’s detailed report, listeners uncover the Bureau’s involvement in not just containing supernatural anomalies but actively creating and distributing them for experimentation and control.

Narrative Storytelling

A significant portion of the episode immerses listeners in a first-person narrative of an individual grappling with the aftermath of taking the "Infinite Dosage." This narrative provides a visceral experience of the drug's effects, depicting horrifying hallucinations and a descent into madness. The protagonist's journey through a nightmarish reality highlights the drug’s horrifying capabilities to distort perception and reality itself.

Notable Narrative Highlights:

• Initial Encounter: The protagonist describes the atmosphere of a dingy corner store where they purchase the drug, emphasizing the drug's allure despite its high cost and dangerous reputation.

  • “This one's not for everyone but you. You might just be the right kind of desperate.” (06:22)

• Transformation: Upon ingesting the drug, the protagonist experiences intense visual and sensory distortions, encountering grotesque figures and a shifting environment that blurs the line between reality and hallucination.

  • “The walls of my apartment stretched and warped, their edges blurring like a reflection on the surface of a pond.” (07:09)

• Ultimate Breakdown: The narrative culminates in a horrifying climax where the protagonist confronts malevolent forces, leading to their realization of being trapped in a supernatural nightmare orchestrated by the Redwood Bureau.

  • “The presence was everywhere and nowhere, each flicker of its awareness tearing away pieces of me.” (45:39)

Agent Conroy’s Report

Interspersed with the narrative are Agent Conroy’s insights, revealing the broader implications of the Bureau’s actions. Conroy dissects the nature of the "Infinite Dosage" drug, exposing it as more than a substance but a key that opens portals to otherworldly dimensions, controlled by the Bureau for their nefarious purposes.

Key Revelations:

• Bureau’s Intent: The Bureau not only studies anomalies but also cultivates and weaponizes them, using civilians as unwitting test subjects.

  • “The Bureau doesn’t see horror. They see opportunity. They want to understand how it works, how to harness it, how to weaponize it.” (47:04)

• Public Implications: Conroy emphasizes the importance of public awareness and collective action in countering the Bureau’s unchecked power.

  • “The Redwood Bureau has power. But power means nothing against a force greater than itself. A force they can’t control. A growing force like US.” (49:53)

Key Insights and Discussions

This episode serves as a critical exposé of the Redwood Bureau’s operations, highlighting themes of unchecked power, ethical corruption, and the intersection of the supernatural with everyday life. Agent Conroy’s revelations suggest a deep-seated conspiracy where the Bureau manipulates supernatural elements for control and power, disregarding human lives in the process.

Themes Explored:

• Ethical Corruption: The Bureau's willingness to exploit supernatural entities at the expense of human lives underscores a profound moral decay within the organization.

• Public Awareness: Conroy’s mission to leak the Bureau’s reports signifies a call to arms for the public to recognize and oppose the Bureau’s clandestine activities.

• Supernatural Manipulation: The creation and distribution of the "Infinite Dosage" drug reveal the Bureau’s advanced and malevolent manipulation of supernatural phenomena, posing unprecedented threats to society.

Notable Quotes

• Agent Conroy:

  • “The Redwood Bureau has operated in the shadows for too long, unchallenged and unchecked. But things are changing.” (04:55)
  • “This drug isn't just a compound. It's a key. Something that unlocks a door no one should have ever opened.” (47:04)
  • “Those who take it don't just experience hallucinations. What happens to them is real.” (47:04)
  • “The Redwood Bureau has power. But power means nothing against a force greater than itself. A force they can’t control. A growing force like US.” (49:53)

• Narrative Protagonist:

  • “I'll just get this over with,” (02:04)
  • “This is the last time,” (08:40)
  • “The presence was everywhere and nowhere, each flicker of its awareness tearing away pieces of me.” (45:39)
  • “The words shattered me. Not physically, but completely.” (45:41)

Conclusions and Future Implications

"INFINITE DOSAGE" ends on a compelling note, with Agent Conroy hinting at the ongoing battle against the Redwood Bureau and the larger forces at play. The exposure of the Bureau’s experiments with supernatural drugs sets the stage for future episodes, promising deeper dives into the Bureau’s operations and Conroy’s efforts to dismantle their power.

Future Directions:

• Ongoing Investigation: Conroy indicates that the fight against the Bureau is just beginning, with steps already taken to halt the distribution of the dangerous drug.

• Community Empowerment: The episode underscores the potential for collective action and public vigilance to counteract powerful, secretive organizations like the Redwood Bureau.

• Expanding Lore: The horrifying experiences of the narrative protagonist expand the podcast’s lore, hinting at a universe where supernatural elements are a tangible and lethal reality manipulated by human conspiracies.

Conclusion

"INFINITE Dosage" serves as a pivotal episode in the Redwood Bureau series, blending intense narrative storytelling with expositional insights from Agent Conroy. By unveiling the dark depths of the Redwood Bureau’s experiments and their catastrophic consequences, the episode not only entertains but also provokes thought about power, ethics, and resistance in the face of overwhelming odds. For fans of horror and conspiracy, this episode is a must-listen, offering both suspenseful storytelling and a deeper understanding of the ongoing struggle against the enigmatic Redwood Bureau.

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Note: The episode skillfully intertwines immersive storytelling with investigative reporting, ensuring that listeners are both entertained and informed about the underlying threats posed by the Redwood Bureau. The inclusion of Agent Conroy’s firsthand accounts adds credibility and urgency to the narrative, making "INFINITE Dosage" a standout installment in the Redwood Bureau series.

Transcript

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[Narrator]

These are violent criminals, so they're not gonna go down easy.

[TV Show Announcer]

ABC Tuesdays Cops.

[Narrator]

Let's get this done.

[TV Show Announcer]

The rookie is back.

[Narrator]

We have two new rookies starting today. Howdy.

[Shopify Representative]

Being a cop is stressful.

[TV Show Character]

24.

[Narrator]

7.

[Tax Expert]

Every year on the job is different.

[TV Show Announcer]

And training day.

[Narrator]

We have a serial killer at large.

[TV Show Announcer]

Never ends.

[Narrator]

We need an ambulance.

[TV Show Announcer]

The Rookie all new Tuesdays on ABC and stream on hul. Beware the Redwood Bureau. A secret organization which captures and researches creatures and objects that defy explanation. Their reckless procedures have led to countless innocent lives lost. I am Agent Conroy. I worked for the Redwood Bureau. But I have escaped them to leak their reports to the unsuspecting public. You have the right to know.

[Agent Conroy]

Conroy is on an assignment. I'm Cipher. And if you're hearing this, then you are paying attention. The Redwood Bureau has operated in the shadows for too long, unchallenged and unchecked. But things are changing. More people are waking up, piecing together the patterns and following the trails they were never meant to see. That's how we got this case, from a listener who we'll call Luke. Someone just like you tipped us off to a disturbing new street drug making its way through certain circles, one that does a lot more than just ruin lives. Its effects are beyond chemical. They're beyond any drug we've ever seen, the kind of thing the EARO takes an interest in. The kind of thing they don't just study, but cultivate. You see, the Bureau doesn't just contain and exploit anomalies. They create them, distribute them, and used the world as their testing ground. We've seen it before, but this time they slipped up. We intercepted enough data early on to track this thing back to its source, the Redwood Bureau. And the deeper we dig, the worse it gets. Whatever this drug is, whatever it's doing to the people who take it, it's no mere accidentally discovered anomaly. We've intercepted enough Bureau documentation to know exactly what this is. It's a sacrifice paid for in civilians. Blood.

[Narrator]

The corner store had no name, just a flickering neon sign above the door that buzzed like an angry hornet. It wasn't the kind of place you went unless you had to. Paint peeled in long strips from the brick facade. The single window was so clouded with grime it barely let in any light. Inside, the air was stale, heavy with the stink of sweat and something like a spilled chemical cleaner. I hesitated outside, hands stuffed in my jacket pockets, eyes scanning the streets for familiar faces. I couldn't afford to be seen here. Not again. The world felt like it was closing in these days, bills piling up, people whispering when they thought I wasn't listening. The gnawing hunger in my chest didn't care about shame or consequences, demanded to be fed, and I was out of excuses. Let's just get this over with, I muttered, pulling the door open. The bell above the frame let out a pathetic ding, and the cashier barely looked up from his magazine. I walked straight to the counter, keeping my head down.

[Dealer]

Same as usual?

[Narrator]

The man behind the counter asked. His voice was gravelly, disinterested. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Yeah? He glanced toward the back of the store, then jerked his head toward a narrow hallway.

[Dealer]

He's in the office.

[Narrator]

The hallway smelled worse than the front. Mildew and cigarette smoke mixed with something sour the fluorescent light overhead flickered, casting everything in a sickly yellow hue. I passed faded posters taped haphazardly to the walls, the edges curled like dead leaves. Each step felt heavier, my stomach tightening as I reached the door at the end. I cracked open before I could knock. The man inside wasn't my usual dealer. This one was older, with sunken cheeks and eyes like wet tar pits. He grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth that looked too sharp. You're late, he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

[Dealer]

Bad habit in this line of work.

[Narrator]

I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. Sorry. Didn't know you were covering for Sean.

[Dealer]

Sean's taking a break. Lucky you. New product just came in. Something special.

[Narrator]

He turned to a small metal safe bolted to the wall, spinning the dial with deliberate slowness.

[Dealer]

This one's not for everyone but you. You might just be the right kind of desperate.

[Narrator]

His words made my skin crawl, but I didn't move. Pulled out a tiny vial no bigger than his thumb and held it up to the light. The liquid inside shimmered unnaturally, shifting between colors I couldn't quite name. What is it? I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

[Dealer]

Let's just call it an experience. A once in a lifetime trip.

[Narrator]

And the side effects? He chuckled, low and raspy.

[Dealer]

That's what makes it fun.

[Narrator]

How much? I asked. He named a price that made my chest tighten. It was nearly everything I had left in my wallet. Money I'd been saving for rent, groceries. Anything but this. But the ache was unbearable now, my hands itching to grab the vial to silence the screaming void inside me. I shoved the cash into his outstretched hand. He chuckled as he tucked it into his pocket, his teeth catching the light.

[Dealer]

Careful with this one, he said, pressing.

[Narrator]

The vial into my palm.

[Dealer]

It's not like the other stuff.

[Narrator]

The words lingered in the air as I left, the door slamming shut behind me. Back at my apartment, the walls felt closer than usual, the silence oppressive. The empty fridge hummed faintly, a reminder of how little I had left to lose. I tossed my jacket onto the couch, sinking into the worn cushions as the vial glinted in the dim light. I turned it over in my hands, the liquid inside swirling hypnotically. For a moment thought about throwing it out, flushing it down the sink. The thought passed as quickly as it came unscrewed the cap bringing the vial to my lips. It's the last time, I whispered, swallowing the words along with the liquid. I stared at the empty vial on the coffee table, its glass glinting faintly under the weak light of the overhead bulb Figures, I muttered, leaning back against the couch. My head felt heavy, the tension in my neck spreading down to my shoulders maybe really had ripped me off. The silence in the apartment pressed against my ears heavier than usual. There was no escaping it, the way it swallowed every creak, every pop of the radiator. I glanced around the dim room, taking in the clutter, the mess I kept telling myself I'd clean up but never did. Old takeout containers were stacked on the counter, the trash can overflowing with crumpled papers and beer cans. I hated this place, but where else was I supposed to go? My eyes drifted to the corner of the room, to the picture frame half buried under a pile of unopened mail. I didn't want to look, but my body moved before my brain could stop it. I picked it up, brushing the dust from the glass with my sleeve. It was the last photo we took together. Liz was sitting on the hood of the car, her head tilted back, laughing at something stupid, I said. Her hair glowed gold in the late afternoon sun, and the dimple in her cheek was deep, like it always was when she laughed too hard. I used to tease her about it. She'd swat at me, her eyes sparkling, telling me to shut up before dissolving into another fit of giggles. The memory felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I clenched the frame, my knuckles turning white. It'd been a little over a year since that night on the highway, since the drunk driver swerved into our lane, since the sound of screeching tires and twisting metal drowned out everything else. Sound echoed through the silence as I absentmindedly prodded at the scar in my stomach. I ran all the way up to my neck in jagged, twisted lines. The pain was always with me, a constant reminder of what I've done, of what I've lost. They told me it wasn't my fault. The cops, the doctors, the counselors, they all said the same thing. There was nothing you could have done. They didn't understand. I should have reacted quicker. I should have been paying closer attention. I'd been arguing with her about something stupid. I'd been so distracted I didn't see the headlights until it was too late. They didn't see the look on her face in those last terrible seconds. I dropped the frame, letting it clatter onto the table. The glass didn't break. I almost wished it had. Get over it, I whispered, my voice shaking. It wasn't the first time I'd said it to myself. It wouldn't be the last, but the words felt emptier Every time, as if they hollowed me out even more. I tried to keep it together after she died, I really had, but the days blurred into weeks and the weight of it all grew heavier. I stopped going to work, stopped answering calls from friends who didn't know what to say anymore. The bills piled up. The fridge emptied. One night when the silence became too much, I made the mistake of finding something to quiet it. That something turned into everything. The vial on the table gleamed, drawing my gaze back to it. My hands itched, the hunger clawing at my chest. It didn't take away the pain, not really, but it dulled the edges, gave me a few precious hours of numbness, a break from the crushing weight that followed me everywhere. This is the last time, I said, the lie bitter on my tongue. My fingers trembled as I reached for the vial, tossing it across the room. The sight of it only added to my shame. I closed my eyes, exhaling a long, shaky breath. The room was so still, so quiet. It felt like the world outside had stopped moving. For the first time in what felt like weeks, my thoughts began to slow. The gnawing hunger in my chest dulled to a faint ache. For a fleeting moment, I felt almost normal. Then it hit. At first it was subtle, a faint hum in the air, so low I thought it was coming from the pipes in the walls. But it grew louder, deeper, vibrating through my chest like the rumble of a distant engine. My eyes snapped open and the world tilted. The walls of my apartment stretched and warped, their edges blurring like a reflection on the surface of a pond. I blinked hard, shaking my head, but the distortion didn' if anything, it got worse. The corners of the room darkened, shadows spilling across the floor like ink. My vision pulsed, each beat of my heart sending ripples through the air. What the hell? I tried to stand, but my legs gave out, sending me sprawling to the floor. The carpet beneath me felt wrong, too soft, too warm, like flesh instead of fabric. Panic clawed at my throat as I scrambled to my knees, my hands sinking into the squirming fibers. The hum grew louder, almost deafening now, a low frequency roar that made my teeth ache. My skin prickled as if a thousand invisible needles were stabbing into me all at once. I clutched my head, squeezing my eyes shut, but the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable. Then came the colors. They burst into existence, bright and blinding, swirling in patterns that made my stomach churn. Reds and blues and greens bled into one another, forming shapes I couldn't comprehend. Faces flickered in the chaos, rat like snouts and gleaming yellow eyes, their Jagged teeth bared in silent screams, they lunged at me, then vanished, leaving trails of color in their wake. I whispered, my voice barely audible over the noise, Stop it.

[Agent Conroy]

Stop it.

[Narrator]

Stop it. But the colors didn't stop. They folded in on themselves, collapsing into a single blinding point of light at the center of the room. I reached for it, my hand trembling, and the world exploded. The explosion wasn't fire or sound. It was sensation. Every nerve in my body lit up at once, a searing pain that tore through me like lightning. I couldn't tell if I was screaming. The noise in my head was too overwhelming. It felt like I was being stretched, pulled apart at the seams, my mind fraying at the edges. The colors cascaded back in, but they didn't just swirl. They throbbed, each pulse sending shockwaves through my vision. Shapes emerged from the chaos, jagged and wrong. A pair of glowing yellow eyes blinked into existence, then multiplied, filling the space around me. They hovered in the air, unblinking, their gaze heavy with something I couldn't name. The chittering began again, low and distant, but growing closer. I turned, or at least I thought I did. My body didn't feel like it belonged to me anymore. The floor shifted beneath my feet, turning slick and wet. I looked down and saw it wasn't a floor at all, but a sea of writhing, hairless bodies. Rats, their tails twisting together into a pulsing, fleshy mass. I crawled back. There was nowhere to go. The walls were gone, replaced by endless darkness. And in the distance, the shadows move. They were humanoid, but barely long limbs bent at unnatural angles, their movements jerky and fragmented, like a stuttering film reel. They flickered closer with each passing second, their faces half formed and shifting, as if they were trying to decide what to become. No. I croaked, but my voice didn't feel like mine. No. No. No. The chittering rose to a deafening crescendo, drowning out my thoughts. One of the figures stepped forward, its face snapping into clarity. It was me. Or at least it had. My face twisted and stretched, the skin pulled tight over a skeletal grin. It opened its mouth. The sound of my own laughter spilled out, cruel and mocking. I stumbled away, tripping over the rats beneath me. They squealed and scattered, their claws scraping against my skin. The figure with my face loomed closer, its grin widening impossibly. My chest tightened, every breath a struggle, as if the air itself had turned solid. Then the light came back. It wasn't the blinding point from before. It was softer, dimmer, like moonlight breaking through clouds. The figures recoiled, their edges blurring, and the chittering faded into a low humor. For a brief, fleeting moment, I felt something like peace. But it didn't last. The light shifted, revealing a massive shape in the distance. It moved with an eerie grace, its form obscured by swirling shadows. Its eyes glowed a faint red, locked onto me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. The rats beneath me froze, their bodies trembling in unison as the shape grew closer. I tried to move, but my legs wouldn't obey. The shadows wrapped around me, pulling me toward the figure. I could feel its presence pressing against my mind, a cold, alien intelligence that tore through my thoughts like paper. And then everything went black.

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[Darkness Prevails]

Darkness prevails here. Founder of Eeriecast, my little network of scary shows. I appreciate you listening to our scary content, but did you know you can support us? Get ad free feeds of your favorite shows, get a 20 discount code to the Ericast store and unlock access to members only audiobooks all at the same time. Just go to eriecast.com/ and become a member today. It's cheap and really helps us out. That's eeriecast.com/thank you.

[Narrator]

I woke to the sound of beeping. Slow, rhythmic and steady. My body ached, every muscle heavy with exhaustion. I opened my eyes, squinting against the harsh fluorescent light overhead. The ceiling was white, tiled and sterile. A hospital. My mouth was dry, my throat raw. I turned my head, wincing at the sharp pain in my neck where my voice cracked Barely more than a whisper. Where am I? The smell hit me next, sharp and sterile, the unmistakable tang of disinfectant hanging thick in the air. My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache that spread from my temples to the back of my neck. I blinked, my vision swimming as the world slowly came into focus. The stiff sheets itched against my skin, and an IV line tugged at my arm as I shifted. Machines beeped softly beside me, their lights blinking in steady rhythms. I glanced down at my hands, pale against the crisp white blanket, and felt a surge of relief so overwhelming it almost brought me to tears. It was over. Whatever that nightmare had been, it was over. No more colors, no more creatures, no more faces. Just the clean, cold monotony of reality. The relief was short lived, replaced by the creeping anxiety of consequences. How had I gotten here? Who had found me? Was I arrested? My heart rate spiked, my breathing quickening. I forced in a deep breath, willing myself to calm down one thing at a time. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the call button attached to the bed railing. It was bright orange, standing out against the muted tones of the room. I pressed it, half expecting someone to rush in immediately. No one came. The second stretched into minutes, pressed the button again, harder this time, the click loud in the otherwise silent room. Still nothing. My eyes darted to the door. It was closed, the frosted glass window revealing only an empty hallway beyond. Hello? I called out, my voice hoarse and cracking. Is anyone there? Only silence answered me. A cold knot formed in my stomach, but I tried to shake it off. Maybe they were busy. Maybe I wasn't a priority after all. I wasn't bleeding out on an operating table. I shifted uncomfortably in the bed, the sensation of the IV line pulling against my skin, making my nerves buzz. That's when I noticed the machines. They were all beeping and running, their lights blinking steadily, and the lines on the monitors didn't match my heart rate. I placed a hand against my chest, feeling the thud of my pulse, and watched as the green line on the screen continued its unchanging rhythm. It was hooked up to me, but it wasn't tracking my vitals. I yanked my hand back, my breath catching in my throat. The beeping continued, steady and indifferent, as if mocking my realization. I reached for the IV line, intent on ripping it out, but froze when I saw the liquid in the bag above me. It wasn't clear. It shimmered faintly, swirling in shades of gray and black, like smoke trapped in a glass bottle. My chest tightened as a distant sound reached my ears, a soft, rhythmic tapping like fingers drumming on a table. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there. I turned toward the source, my eyes locking onto the door. The tapping stopped. Hello? I called again, louder this time, my voice trembling. Is someone there? The silence was deafening, stretching out like a rubber band about to snap. My fingers clenched the edge of the blanket, the fabric bunching under my grip. The machines continued their indifferent beeping, the ivy line swaying slightly as if disturbed by an invisible breeze. The tapping started again, louder this time, coming from behind me. I twisted my neck, trying to find the source. The window opposite my bed caught my eye. It was small, square, and showed nothing but darkness beyond. But something moved, a faint blur against the glass, quick and fleeting, gone before I could process what it was. Who's there? I whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of my heart. The tapping stopped, replaced by a low, dragging sound, like something heavy being pulled across the floor. It was closer now, just outside the door. My pulse raced, my body frozen as I stared at the frosted glass, waiting for whatever was on the other side to reveal itself. The doorknob turned, but stopped halfway through its turn, and the room fell silent. As I held my breath, my ears strained to catch any sound beyond the rhythmic beeping of the machines. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. Then, with a low creak, the door slowly swung open. The hallway beyond was pitch black. Hello? I barely choked out. No answer. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, wincing as the cold tiles bit into my bare feet. The ivy tugged at my arm, but I yanked it free, the needle sliding out with a sharp sting. The bag above me swung wildly, spilling its shimmering black liquid onto the floor in thick, slow drips. I stood, swaying slightly as my legs protested the sudden movement. My head throbbed, the fluorescent light above flickering as if it were struggling to stay alive. Each flicker cast long, distorted shadows that twisted and stretched across the walls. I shuffled toward the open door, each step hesitant. The darkness beyond seemed alive, pulsating with a faint, rhythmic vibration that I could feel in my chest. I peered into the void, my hands gripping the door frame for support. Is anyone there? Silence broke. A loud crash echoed down the hallway, followed by a wet, squelching sound that made my stomach churn. I staggered back. My foot slipped on the black liquid pooling from the IV bag. My eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything that made sense. The fluorescent light above buzzed violently, casting erratic bursts of light. At one of those bursts, I saw them. Figures. Dark humanoid shapes standing at the far end of the hallway. They were still, their silhouettes razor sharp against the shifting darkness. My chest constricted as I realized they weren't just standing. They were staring at me. The light flickered again. They were gone. No. I whispered, backing away. No. No. No. No. I turned back around, stumbling toward the bed. But the room was different now. The machines had stopped beeping, their screens blank and cracked. The walls were smeared with dried streaks of muddy red, the one sterile white now marred by what looked like claw marks. The air was thick, the scent of iron and decay overpowering. The door slammed shut behind me. I whirled around, my back pressing against the bed. The door was no longer there. In its place was a wall, the surface smooth and seamless, as if the door had never existed. I ran to where the door was, my fingers clawing at the wall in desperation. Let me out. I screamed, pounding against the unyielding concrete surface. The floor beneath me shifted, the tiles softening into something slick and uneven. I looked down and felt bile rise in my throat. The tiles were gone, replaced by a writhing, fleshy mass that pulsed under my weight. Veins snaked through it, bulging with every beat, matching the rhythm of the faintly beeping heart monitor. A gurney rolled into view, its wheels squealing as it moved on its own. Strapped to it was a figure, their body contorted in impossible angles, covered by a bloodied sheet. Their chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. The gurney stopped in the center of the room, the sheets slipping slightly to reveal a mouth. Just a mouth. Gasping silently for air, I stumbled back, tripping over the IV stand. It clattered to the ground, the black liquid spilling out like ink, spreading across the floor in jagged patterns. The walls around me seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting as the light above buzzed erratically. The gurney jerked toward me, its wheels squelching against the fleshy ground. My back hit the far wall, my legs giving out as I slid to the floor. The mouth under the sheet opened wide, impossibly wide, revealing rows of yellow, broken teeth. A sound like nails on a chalkboard tore through the room. I clapped my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. When I opened them, the gurney was gone. The room was silent again, save for the faint, wet writhing that seemed to come from everywhere and soft beeping of the cracked heart monitor. My body trembled as I pushed myself to my feet. The walls around me rippled, their surfaces shifting like liquid glass. I turned slowly. There it was. A door, old and wooden, standing in the middle of the room. Didn't belong there. Didn't belong anywhere. The surface was Warped, the wood splintered and blackened as if it had been burned. A faint golden light seeped through the cracks, flickering like a dying flame. I didn't want to touch it. Every instinct screamed at me to stay away. There was nowhere else to go. The walls were closing in, the fleshy floor writhing beneath me and the gurney screech echoed faintly in the distance. With trembling hands, I reached for the door. My fingers brushed against the door's surface. A sharp jolt shot up my arm like static electricity turned hostile. I yanked my hand back, cradling it against my chest as I stared at the warped wood. The golden light spilling through the cracks pulsed faintly, each beat pulling at something deep in my chest, something primal, buried beneath logic and reason. I didn't want to touch it again, but the room wasn't giving me a choice. The walls were trembling now, their surfaces bubbling like boiling tar. The sound of squelching and tearing filled the air. I could feel the heat rising, oppressive and suffocating. A guttural growl rumbled through the space, low and distant, yet it vibrated in my bones. My eyes darted around the room, but there was nothing. No source, no shape. Just the noise growing louder, closer. With no other options, I gritted my teeth. I shoved the door open. The light hit me like a tidal wave, blinding and all encompassing. I staggered forward, my vision swimming as the ground beneath me tilted. The heat from the hospital was gone, replaced by a chilling dampness that clung to my skin. The door slammed shut behind me with a force that made me jump, the sound reverberating strangely in the still air. I blinked, my vision slowly adjusting to the now dim light. I was in a tunnel, its walls rough and uneven, carved from stone that glistened with moisture. The air hung with the scent of mildew and decomposition. The faint sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere deep within. I turned back to the door, my hand reaching for the handle, but it wasn't there. The door had vanished, replaced by a smooth expanse of stone. Panic clawed at my throat as I pressed my palms against the wall, searching for any sign of an exit. Come on, I muttered, my voice trembling. Come on. The wall didn't budge. The tunnel stretched endlessly in both directions, its darkness impenetrable. The faint golden light I had seen earlier was gone, leaving only the cold, oppressive shadows. I took a shaky step forward, my bare feet slipping slightly on the damp ground. The darkness ahead seemed to shift, the shadows alive and moving. A low scraping sound echoed through the tunnel, faint but deliberate, like claws dragging against stone. Who's there? I called out, my Voice cracking, the sound bounced back at me, distorted and hollow. The scraping stopped. I swallowed hard, my heart jackhammering as I took another step forward. The tunnel felt narrower now, the walls pressing in on either side of me. My hand brushed against the stone, slick and cold, grounding me as I moved deeper into the darkness. A faint light flickered in the distance, dim and unsteady, like a candle struggling to stay lit. I moved toward it, the slapping of my footsteps echoing in the confined space. The light grew brighter as I approached, revealing a series of crude carvings etched into the walls. They were chaotic and uneven, depicting strange symbols and twisted figures locked in torment. My stomach twisted as I traced one of the carvings with my fingertips, the stone rough and jagged. A sudden, bone chilling howl tore through the tunnel, freezing me in place. It wasn't human. It was too low, too guttural, like the cry of something ancient and feral. The light ahead flickered violently before extinguishing entirely, plunging me back into darkness. I looked around, ready to run, but the ground beneath me gave way. I stumbled, my skin scraping against the stone as I fell to my knees. The air spread with a sharp chill, the darkness around me gaining a physical weight. A faint, rhythmic tapping echoed through the tunnel. Same sound I had heard in the hospital. It was close. I scrambled to my feet, pressing myself against the wall. The tapping grew louder, more erratic, accompanied by the faint sound of breathing. My eyes darted around, searching for the source. There was nothing, only the darkness and the sound closing in from all around me. A pair of glowing eyes blinked into existence ahead of me, their yellow hue cutting through the black. They were too high, too wide, staring down at me with a predatory focus that made my skin crawl. Another pair appeared beside them, then another. And another. The tapping suddenly stopped. The tunnel filled with a deafening chittering, like the sound of a thousand rats swarming towards me. I turned and ran, my bare feet slipping on the slick stone as I sprinted into the unknown. The chittering followed, relentless, echoing in the confined space. The faint light appeared again, this time behind me. It illuminated the shapes pursuing me. Twisted skeletal figures with elongated limbs and jagged teeth, their movements jerky and unnatural. They swarmed the tunnel, their glowing eyes fixed on me as they closed the distance. My lungs burned, every breath a struggle as I pushed myself forward. The tunnel began to slope downward, the ground slick and uneven. I stumbled, nearly losing my footing, but only just managed to stay upright. The sound of the chittering grew louder, deafening, drowning out my own ragged breathing. Ahead, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber, its walls lined with flickering torches that cast Long, dancing shadows. I stumbled into the space, my legs trembling as I collapsed to my knees. The chittering stopped abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence that pressed against my ringing ears. The torches flickered, their flames casting strange, distorted shapes across the walls. The air carried an unidentified scent, something corrupted and dead. The faint sound of distant chanting echoed through the chamber. I looked up, my eyes widening as I took in the massive stone altar at the center of the room. The shadows shifted and a figure emerged from the darkness, its massive frame cloaked in tattered black, its eyes glowing in all encompassing red in the dim light, and a guttural growl rumbled from deep within its chest. The torches dimmed, their flames flickering wildly, and the chanting became something I couldn't bear, a vibration that buzzed through my skull, unmaking thought and language. I clutched my ears, but the sound wasn't outside me. It was inside, crawling through my neurons like living static. The beast revealed itself not with movement, but with presence. The air thickened, worming into my chest, my lungs. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. My eyes burned involuntarily, snapping shut, closing them did nothing. It was there, not in my vision, but in my mind, a presence so vast it eclipsed me, folded me into irrelevance. When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the chamber anymore. I was everywhere. The ground was a slick, undulating mass, like flesh stretched across infinite tendrils of bone. Above, there was no sky, only the void, infinite and black, pierced by gashes of light that bled colors I'd never seen and couldn't describe. In every direction, the horizon shifted and cracked like broken glass, splitting into jagged fragments that each reflected a different, impossible landscape. A city made of screaming faces, a river of molten gold flowing backward, evaporating into clouds of ash. A mountain range that shifted and groaned like a dying animal. The chanting followed me, but it wasn't voices anymore. It was something larger, an overwhelming pulse, a rhythm that ordered this chaos. Something was here. It didn't walk. It didn't move. It didn't need to. It was woven into the fabric of this place, its form flickering in and and out of existence like the afterimage of a terrible thought. Where I glimpsed it, my mind rebelled. Its shape was too vast, too fragmented, like every nightmare condensed into a single, incomprehensible moment. It wasn't a thing. It was an idea, an inevitability, the embodiment of everything cruel and infinite in the universe. I ran. My legs moved, but the ground pulled at me, swallowing me ankle deep. The thing's Attention was everywhere and nowhere, each flicker of its awareness tearing away pieces of me. My vision blurred. My arms felt lighter. When I glanced down, I saw gaps in my flesh, as if parts of me had been erased. I stumbled, falling to my hands and knees. The ground beneath me, corners quivered, sinking and rising in sickening waves. I could see through my hands now, the bones faintly visible through translucent skin. My thoughts unraveled, splintering into fragments. I couldn't remember my name. I couldn't remember why I was here. A shape loomed ahead of me. A door, tall and blackened, its surface oozing with something dark and viscous. The chanting shifted, rising in pitch, each syllable dragging me closer to the brink of madness. The door pulsed, its edges glowing faintly, a beacon in the nightmare. I crawled toward it, the weight of its gaze pressing down on me. My limbs ached, my muscles screaming as the last remnants of my will drove me forward. The door grew larger. Maybe I was shrinking. I couldn't tell anymore. The boundaries of my body, my mind, myself, all of it was disintegrating. When I reached the door, I hesitated. Something deep within me, some primal instinct, told me that whatever lay beyond it was worse. Worse than the Presence, worse than this place, worse than anything. The thing's attention on me surged. I had no choice. A trembling hand reached for the door's surface, the viscous fluid clinging to my skin as I pushed it open. The world beyond was silent, still, an endless wide expanse, sterile and bright, stretching forever. I stepped through, and the door slammed shut behind me. At first I thought I was alone, but then I saw them. Figures standing in the distance. Hundreds, maybe thousands. They turned to face me, their eyes glowing faintly, their forms distorted and incomplete. Their mouths moved, but no sound came out. As they stepped closer, I realized they. They were me. Each figure was a fractured version of myself, each bearing the marks of every choice I had made or failed to make. One was emaciated, its skin stretched taut over hollow bones. Another was bloated, its flesh splitting open to reveal writhing tendrils. Another had no face at all, its features wiped clean, its head tilted as if in quiet despair. They surrounded me, their forms pressing closer, their eyes accusing. The chanting returned, louder now, more insistent. I tried to run, but my legs wouldn't move. My body betrayed me, the ground beneath me rising and twisting, holding me in place. The presence emerged again, Its form stretched across the horizon. It leaned down, its influence blotting out the figures, blotting out the light, blotting out everything. Its voice wasn't sound. It was thought, forced into my Mind with crack, crushing weight.

[Agent Conroy]

You are nothing. Or nothing.

[Narrator]

The words shattered me. Not physically, but completely. My existence unraveled. Every memory, every thought stripped away. I was left suspended in the void. An echo of a life. An eternity passed. Time no longer existed. And then I was back. The hospital room was silent. The machines were off, the lights dim. I was lying in the bed, my body intact. My chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. My hand trembled as I reached up to touch my face. It was still there. But something was missing. I couldn't say what. Couldn't remember. The door creaked open and a nurse stepped inside. Her smile was plastic, her eyes empty. Are you ready for your next dose?

[Agent Conroy]

Case file number 013. Infinite dosage. This was never just about a drug. This was never just about one man's overdose or one bad batch slipped through the cracks. This was a test. A field study. The Bureau wanted to see what happened when this substance was introduced outside of controlled environments. And they got their answer. But they just couldn't keep their hands off the subjects. And they led us right to their operation. We still don't know the true nature of the drug. But the Bureau's involvement confirms one thing. This was all intentional. This drug isn't just a compound. It's a key. Something that unlocks a door no one should have ever opened. Those who take it don't just experience hallucinations. What happens to them is real. It brings them to something on the other side. Something ancient and malevolent. The Bureau doesn't see horror. They see opportunity. They want to understand how it works, how to harness it, how to weaponize it. The ultimate interrogation tool. The perfect assassination method. The next phase of control. But they didn't expect us to find out so soon. They didn't expect one of you to see the pattern and tip us off. That's what terrifies them the most. Losing control. Now the people they've disregarded for so long are finally watching them back. We've already taken steps to shut this down. I can't go into full detail. Not yet. But the distribution is going to stop. Nibiro won't be able to push this poison any further. Not without consequences and risks I highly doubt they will take. This is what happens when we work together. This is how we fight back. And to whoever is listening, to you who sent us the first breadcrumbs that led to this takedown. Thank you. You made a difference. The Redwood Bureau has power. But power means nothing against a force greater than itself. A force they can't control. A growing force like US.

[Tax Expert]

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