Hawkins National Laboratory Flashlight Novels & Stories

Ethan leaned forward, his flash-light cutting a bright, clinical beam through the gloom as he examined the laser-etched serial number: [VESPER-MED-901]. He reached out with a gloved finger, touching the inner rim, his jaw locking tight as he felt the faint, sticky residue of the fresh silicone seal. "The safe house compound," Ethan rasped, his eyes snapping up to meet my obsidian stare. "The neural paralyzer that mimics a flatline. But this cap is fresh, Boss. It hasn't been out of a sterile casing for more than twelve hours."

I whispered. The screen flickered to life. Lines of code. Static. Then a message. AUTHORIZATION GRANTED: SUBJECT 034F – ISABELLA HAWKINGS “Why did it recognize you?” Elijah asked. “I’ve never even—” But I hesitated when the room spun. A projector flickered to life above casting a holographic message into the room. It wavered in place, clearly intended for just one person. “On top of the message was stamped: TO: VIVIANNE HAWKINGS – CLASSIFIED

“I want to show you something… Where’s your notebook?” Seeing it for himself on the little table, Christophe headed for it in one long stride, turned on the notebook, and prepared a USB flash drive next to it “Good! No password! Come and sit! We’ll probably still be sitting here at lunchtime tomorrow. You’re going to watch and inwardly digest every indescribably boring hour of this just as I had to…” “Christophe... W-what are you talking about?” she prompted, watching the images on the display.

"It grants eternal youth and banishes wrinkles." Modern Vespera uncorked it and sniffed. "It smells like cucumber water." Fantasy Vespera winked. "It is cucumber water. But if you tell the peasants it is magic, they believe it. Perception is power, sister." Modern Vespera laughed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sleek, black cylinder. "A trade," Modern Vespera said. "A solar-powered, military-grade LED flashlight. Never runs out of battery as long as there is a sun."

Lucas cried out when he watched Viper suddenly burst out of the lab at super speed and Elektris followed immediately after in a similar fashion. The Secretary of the US Department of Defense was just coming from a talk with the SKC Director and were both on their way to Dr. Heywood’s lab when they caught sight of the flashes of lightning that had suddenly appeared further ahead. “You wouldn't happen to be in the middle of a lab experiment, Director?” The trail of lightning flashes then started moving fast toward them, straight to where the Madam Secretary and the Director stood.

He was too focused, forehead creased as he rechecked the final circuit board. “The sealant’s drying wrong,” he muttered. “Humidity’s killing it.” “Everything’s killing it,” Ave said. “We should’ve left twenty minutes ago.” “I just need to tighten this relay port—” “Monroe, please, the power’s been flickering for an hour.” As if summoned, the lights overhead blinked once. Twice. Then died. Complete darkness. Ave froze. “Tell me you brought a flashlight.” “Nope,” Blake said cheerfully. “But I brought mints.”

The distant roar of Mack’s diversion echoed through the trees – a series of concussive *thumps* followed by the sharp crackle of spreading fire, painting the southern sky an angry orange. *Right on cue.* **“Now, Reynolds,”** Harlan whispered into his comms. The exterior lights on the lab truck died instantly, plunging the immediate area into near-total darkness. The guards spun towards the distant inferno, rifles snapping up. **<< Lights down. Security doors unlocked. Interior cameras looped. Environmental controls primed – say the word, and I flood the main chamber with concentrated nitric acid vapor. Highly corrosive. Highly messy. >>** Reynolds’s voice was calm in their earpieces. **<< Th

A tactical flashlight. It shines on us. Harlan is standing there, holding the light. His lab coat is singed. He looks at the wreckage of his lab. He looks at us, still tangled together on the table. "Jesus Christ," he whispers, lowering the light. "What did you do?" "We broke the machine," Alex says, his voice rough. "You broke everything," Harlan says. He sounds... impressed. He turns the light away, pointing it toward the exit. "The magnetic locks are dead," he says quietly. "The blast doors will be open. If you run now... my team is too blind to stop you."

Quill muttered. Hawk crossed the room, rummaging through a storage bin until he found what he was looking for. He returned holding a large construction spotlight, flipping it on, and setting it near the window. The beam lit the floor in a sharp, brilliant glow. He grabbed a white tarp from the corner and spread it beneath the light.

Jack commanded, his voice calm, yet carrying a new weight of authority that made even Marcus turn his head slightly. "On it," she replied, her fingers a blur across her wrist-mounted console. A series of high-intensity LED floodlights, previously positioned to illuminate the incubation pods, swiveled with silent, servo-driven whirs. Beams of pure white light sliced through the gloom, converging on the tunnel entrance.