The creature put up a great flight.
We ambushed it in thirty-three, our catch lured in by the shimmers of a newborn adder nest. We watched it skitter closer and closer, nosing the air cautiously, but not near cautiously enough. James was the first to fire, his bullet bursting through the shelf inches from the deerling’s head.
It turned, milky eyes flaring —
(I came upon a set of three rustic wooden pillars, sticking out of the yellow walls like sore thumbs. Further down this hallway, the footage saw large wooden rafters straight out of some northern European hotel, erected where the ceiling was unusually high. I continued onwards as the ceiling dipped back down and the surrounding lighting shifted erratically, and on the turn of the next corner, the wall above the entranceway was oddly incomplete in places where the edges of the vision snapped back into reality.)
— and the hunt was on.
James and Benny raced ahead, while I fell just behind, shotgun braced against my chest. The thing was frustratingly agile: it skidded and climbed over various shelves, registers, dodged along the walls and looped around corners at breakneck speed. We saw it climbing, sprinting sideways as nimbly as on flat ground. Pieces of stray laminate flew our way, sliding across the ground under our pounding boots; it charged right through construction tarps, and we followed. Deeper into the bowels of that place. Deeper through the persistence of our prey.
(The air hung heavy around the cave. It was like childhood fantasies of cowering beneath a blanket, flashlight in hand to ward off the darkness. The space was enclosed and secure in a temporary sense, like an air bubble created under the duvet, chipped away by every stuttering breath I exhaled per minute.)
Almost… almost within reach. I had my finger on the trigger, ready to take a leap of faith —
(It was loud beyond belief. I knew it was in my best interest not to drink — I never liked that stuff anyways — but the faces around me held no such reservations. I watched them swing foam-brimmed mugs around with vigor, cackling smiles on their ugly faces as they cheered to the present. I, on the other hand, was getting rather antsy by the minute.)
A shot rang through the department store, shattering glass. Pieces of the storefront went flying, James cursed, hugging his face, I continued forward — bottles at the ready. The tips of my boots stopped short of the destruction and the pale, bloodstained body lying in the display light. I motion for Benny’s gloves – even in death, the deerling’s venom persists under its skin – and the three of us quickly loaded the valuable portions into our suitcase —
(Here, I knelt in a low-ceiling room, tapping away at one of four computers set on a row of plastic tree logs. The space around me was dimly lit, the faint glow of the computer monitor barely illuminating one-third of the surroundings, revealing painted nursery walls and a single power box stationed near the door. In the doorway, all I could see was darkness, hiding the mall escalators, which I knew to be the only things on the other side.)
The reminders of the hallucination fade, like fraying spiderwebs waned from the wind.
We lug the carcass home, the three of us carrying bottles of panacea and flashes of memories that weren’t ours.
— BNTG Journal, The Most Expensive Spoil on the Back Markets
[Fig.1: Antiserum prototype, sponge for reference.]
Object Number: 201 ｜ Class: Consumable
Origin: Manufactured
The higher echelons of the Back Markets are made out of premium goods, with halo antiserum at its center. At first glance, the object is nothing out of the ordinary: a small, unlabeled vial barely the length of a finger. However, within these unassuming containers lies one of the most coveted treasures known to humankind.
Description
Halo antiserum is an opaque, iridescent liquid which glitters like jewels under the light. When frozen, it gains a clear, blueish tint. Its portions pool and adhere to each other like mercury at room temperature, congealing after mere minutes of exposure to oxygen.
It is often sold in small, unmarked bottles. For one, this is to preserve the serum's luster, as the telltale give of the iridescence tends to fade after prolonged exposure to bright light, lending doubt on the buyer's end regarding the veracity of a faded batch.1 For another, openly flaunting a bottle of Object 201 will sooner lend you a few unsavory persons on your tail than a customer.
Fig. 1 depicts a single vial of halo antiserum, one of the six successful acquisitions from that particular batch.2
Properties
The how and why of Object 201 is not well understood. The only certainties about the concoction are that it is efficient and that it is effective.
! Instructions !
Administer one vial-full by injection.
If no syringe is available, apply directly to the wound or any other opening with access to the veins. Freeze for one hour before using to avoid side effects such as vivid hallucinations and dryness in the retinal area.
To put it simply, halo antiserum is a cure-all when it comes to toxins in the Backrooms. There has yet to be a poison or a venom that the antiserum has proven unable to reverse. With this small white vial in hand, bringing a patient on the brink of death back to health is merely a matter of price.
Locations
[Fig.2: One brew of antiserum is divided into seven vials.]
Unfortunately, the listing on the Back Markets does not come from nothing. Halo antiserum is not a natural byproduct of the Backrooms. Among other things, both gathered and synthesized, the main ingredient in this miracle cure comes in the form of body parts.
More specifically, the blood of Entity 201, an endangered species of Cervidae native to several isolated levels.
During the early 2010s, hunting of blue-ringed deerlings was widely practiced among MEG-affiliated settlements. Due to the popularity of the entity's pelt in embroidery, and the ill reputation the creatures held in a superstitious sense3, deerling numbers were whittled down at a blistering speed over the years. By the time the value of antivenom was realized, it was already too late. The average number of deerlings per cluster ranged in the low thousands.
But a glimmer of hope remains in the face of oncoming exhaustion. The last sanctuary of the deerling population rests in The Inland. The level contains approximately three-fourths of the remaining 201 populace and has seen a constant rate of deerling sightings, while all signs of the entities have dwindled on the surrounding levels. The BNTG has released an offer promising great compensation and profits for local personnel participation.4 Lead Trader Benedict Taylor expresses his profound desire to rekindle the market for halo antiserum and continue bringing a light at the end of the tunnel for wanderers in the depths of despair.
Appendix
Vote: Open up The Inland and its population of Entity 201 for the benefits of BNTG hunters?
| Personnel | Verdict |
|---|---|
| Director Indiza | Accept |
| Operative Everleigh | Accept |
| Operative Caldwell | Accept |
| Operative Norman | Accept |
| Archivist Stanzford | Accept |
| Archivist Marseille | Accept |
| Archivist Quinsay | Deny |
6-1. Vote passed.
