Letter of Dr. Wallace Vane

(Found atop a bloodstained table, beside surgical tools and decaying audio tapes.)

They said I was insane. That my hands tainted science with blood. But what do they know of the truth? What do they know of the hidden potential of the human brain?

They weren’t people. They were pieces. Data. Variables. Biological code waiting to be rewritten. If they suffered... it was for the greater good. If they screamed... it was the sound of progress.

But now they watch me.

The ones I brought back.
They do not speak. They only move, crawl, and stare with eyes I myself had closed forever.
They were not meant to return.

I played god with flesh and forged monsters with forgotten names.
I have no control anymore.

They are here, even when I do not see them.

Guilt gnawed my mind until only static remained. And the static… became laughter. MY laughter.

If someone finds this letter… do not try to understand. Burn this place. Burn the bodies. Burn my soul.

I am science’s final mistake.

And now, I return to silence.

– Dr. Wallace Vane
“The flesh is weak. The mind, corruptible. But horror… horror is eternal.”