The Paddock Seven Incident
A silent paddock hides something breathing in the dark, waiting for the next glitch to reveal its presence.
The tape crackled to life.
A green-tinted image flickered onto the screen: Paddock Seven. Night vision. Rain slashing sideways. Fence humming with power. The timestamp blinked in the corner.
“Look at the distortion,” Indy murmured. “Whatever did this… shook the camera mount.”
Lara leaned closer. “Or the ground.”
On the tape, two figures entered frame wearing soaked security uniforms. Their names glowed faintly on their badges.
RUIZ
MARTEN
Ruiz held a flashlight trembling in his grip. “You see it hit the fence from here?” he asked, breath fogging the air.
Marten shook his head. “Just alarms. And that… sound.”
The camera caught their faces. Both looked like men who had already seen too much.
A deep thud rolled across the paddock. Not thunder. Something heavier.
Ruiz froze. “There it is again.”
Marten swallowed hard. “Stay sharp.”
They moved along the fence line, water sloshing around their boots, flashlight beams cutting through the darkness. The paddock beyond was a black expanse of trees and fog. Nothing stirred.
Then the ground shivered.
Ruiz steadied himself against the fence. “It’s close.”
“Back up,” Marten whispered. “If it charges, we’re dead.”
Another tremor. Stronger. The camera glitched, lines of static distorting the image as if the tape itself flinched.
Lara inhaled sharply. “Indy… the vibrations are rhythmic. Like footsteps.”
“Not small ones,” he replied.
On the tape, Ruiz and Marten lifted their flashlights.
Branches shifted. Leaves trembled. Something enormous brushed the treetops.
A low growl rolled out so deep the camera mic quivered.
Marten whispered, “Oh God… it’s not supposed to be here.”
Ruiz turned. “What do you mean ‘not supposed to be here’?”
Marten faced him, eyes wide. “Because Seven was empty. It was transferred to—”
A massive silhouette slammed against the fence, cutting him off. Metal shrieked. Sparks exploded across the paddock as the containment field buckled.
Both men stumbled backward, screaming.
The beast pressed forward again, harder. The fence bowed. Steel groaned like a dying animal.
“RUN!” Marten yelled.
They sprinted toward the tower. The camera caught only their flailing shapes and the monstrous shadow behind them, pounding against the barrier.
The fence gave way.
A roar ripped through the speakers—raw, primal, blood-chilling. Something carnivorous stepped into the open, its form hulking and reptilian, jaw lined with teeth that glinted in the rain.
Ruiz reached the tower ladder. “Climb! Climb!”
Marten hurled himself upward, boots slipping on metal rungs. The creature lunged, snapping its jaws inches from Ruiz’s back.
Marten reached the platform. “Ruiz! Move!”
Ruiz leapt for the ladder, grabbing the lowest rung—
The creature struck.
The camera jerked violently as Ruiz was snatched from the ladder and dragged into the mud. His scream tore through the rain, cut short by a sickening crunch.
Marten sobbed, gripping the platform rails. “No… no…”
The beast turned its head up toward him, eyes glowing with cold intelligence.
“Please…” Marten whispered.
A crack split the night. The tower shook. The creature rammed it with bone-breaking force. Metal buckled. Bolts snapped. The entire structure tilted.
“Help!” Marten screamed. “Somebody help!”
No one came.
The creature rammed it again.
The tower collapsed in a screech of steel. The camera tumbled, spinning wildly before slamming into the ground. Rain hit the lens. Mud splattered the view.
Marten’s body fell into frame, limp and broken.
For several long seconds, the tape showed nothing but darkness and heavy breathing—deep, hungry inhalations from just off-camera.
Then a single eye appeared.
Huge. Unblinking. Reptilian.
Staring into the lens as if it knew it was being recorded.
The screen filled with static.
The tape ended.
Lara and Indy sat frozen.
Indy swallowed. “That… was not a raptor.”
Lara pressed eject with a shaking hand. “No. And if this was the first tape… we have a problem.”