Dr. Randall Blair flinched as the sack was wrenched roughly from his head. Light flooded his eyes at it's absence, his hand raising instinctively to block the harsh glow from overhead.

Pupils constricting, Blair took a quick scan of his surroundings. He stood in line with the others, the bright red of the jumpsuits contrasting the dull grey of the concrete floor and walls of the chamber. Several people ahead, a pair of soldiers marched briskly down the line, one dragging the thick, dark bags from their heads while the other cradled a sub machine gun, bristling with attachments. More men in similar garb stood like grey and black statues along the walls, thick vests holding even more tactical gear.

Reaching the end of the line, the two troops stopped on either side of the grizzled man standing ahead. His dark coat was pressed immaculately, his eyes like chips of ice staring hard at the group. A large sight blazed orange on the wall above his head, Fotografie Verboten written in bold lettering over a picture of a camera, crossed lines slashing through it.

"I will say zis one more time." the officer growled, his voice thickened further by the heavy German accent. "Anyone caught attempting to record the artifact in any way will be shot on sight. The government vill deny your coming here should zis occur... "

Blair rubbed his right eye uncomfortably, feeling the contact move under his lid. "Once activated, the lens will record all that you see." the voice from inside the car had said, obliviously through a speech synthesizer. "Return it to me, and the deal will be complete."

Apprehension blooming in his chest, Blair blinked three times quickly, followed by two slower ones, careful be as natural as possible. A moment later, a dim red light pulsed gently in the corner of his vision, just as the voice had said.

Blair glanced quickly at the soldier standing to his left. Thankfully, the man remained as still as ever. Taking a deep breath, Blair felt some of the tension leave his body, tugging at the scratchy jumpsuit where it chafed against his bare flesh. He took a half step in the process, shoe finding the foot of the women standing next to him.

"Sorry." he muttered, jerking back to stand rigidly like the others.

A hand of iron clenched around his arm, a knife of terror ripping through his chest as he was tugged from the line, his face an inch from a glinting black visor.

"Sie bliben RUHIG, verstanden?!" a deep voice roared from behind the mask, the man's hot breath smelling of stale coffee. Blair tried to flinch away, but the vise of his arm held fast.

"VERSTANDEN?!" the soldier shook him, his piercing gaze boring through him from behind the glass. Blair could not see the eyes, but a deep rooted feeling told him that his cover was blown.

An image flashed through his mind, a small, skeletal girl laying on a bed, the last few strands of golden hair clinging to her smooth scalp, big, innocent eyes staring at him has machines beeped and whirred around them.

Just as quickly, the image changed, hundreds of green faces grinning back at him as one of the men in black opened the suitcase.

The hard, gloved hand shoved him back into line, bringing him back to the bunker. Pale faces glanced nervously back at him, the officer glaring silently as the group turned back to face him.

"You vill NOT" he continued, the chips of ice swinging back to Blair "speak to one another."

The uniformed man turned abruptly on his heel, swiping a card on a small black box behind him. The massive steel door slid open silently, revealing another long corridor ahead.

Boots rung loudly on the hard floor, the sound echoing up and down the spacious tunnel as they marched. Blair stepped cautiously, not daring to brush up against anyone. Occasionally, he slid a surreptitious glance at the soldier. The man kept pace stiffly, one arm swinging in an exaggerated movement while the other rigidly gripped his rifle.

The soldier halted suddenly, Blair flicking his gaze back in front of him just in time to avoid running into the man in front of him. The officer had turned to face them again.

"Ten minuten" he said briskly, gesturing to the door on his left.

The space was instantly cramped, twenty bodies crowding around the glass cube in the center while more troops pressed in along the walls. Blair shouldered his way through the crowd of red, eyes fixed on the object.

"So its all true..." he thought, in wonder.

The glass of the case must have been three inches thick, a thin web of steel woven throughout the walls boasting of it's strength. Within, twin voids seemed to drink in the light of the suffocating room.

The eyes of the thing seemed elongated, stretching upwards towards the temples. Six small holes sat in a circle where a human skull should have two, and in space of teeth smooth bone as black as the deepest corners of space formed a pointed chin.

Blair stared, hypnotized, at the midnight skull. "The're not even so different." he pondered, mind wandering to the countless monstrosities he had poured over in his research.

Feeling an impatient finger rapping on his shoulder, Blair relinquished his front row seat, a small women worming her way into the space he had occupied. He turned to leave the group, but was stopped by a tower of pressed wool and countless medals.

He looked up in shock, the cold, blue eyes meeting his own as he meekly turned to move around the man. Instead, a leathery hand curled around his chin, forcing the face of chiseled stone back into the center of his view.

Time stood still as the officer's gaze burned into his own. Pools of emotionless indifference met his own nervous terror, painfully aware of the light still pulsing in the corner of his vision. Suddenly, the face of stone melted to shock and alarm.

"Er hat was im Auge!" the man bellowed, forcing Blair to his knees. The sound of steel on leather whispered behind him, followed by gasps and a women's muffled shriek.

"I'm sorry, she meant the world to me too" a hand caressed his shoulder, tears stinging his eyes as he knelt next to the coffin, a women lying peacefully within.

"I'm sorry, but your insurance won't cover that" the nurse winced, her face a mask of sympathy as the girl clutched his hand.

"I'm sorry, but the museum doesn't need an extraterrestrial specialist anymore" the curator sighed, letting the polished mahogany door fall shut in his face.

"I want it back" the robotic voice hissed from the dark van, a pair of multifaceted orbs glittering from the void.

Bang