The newly-formed sector, dubbed Project Emberlight, became a shadow organization operating under the guise of a federal wildlife protection agency. Their true purpose, however, was far darker than anything they publicly disclosed: to track, capture, and humanely terminate ESMs before they could claim more victims. The team’s motto, engraved on the iron crossbows they carried, was chillingly simple: “Extinguish the echoes.”

  Their arsenal was as much a product of ingenuity as necessity. Flamethrowers strapped to tactical vests, iron-tipped ammunition, steel cages lined with fire-resistant padding, and iron-laced nets became standard equipment. But their most vital tools weren’t weapons—they were knowledge and preparation. Every operative underwent intense psychological training to resist the unnerving mimicry of the ESMs. They were drilled to recognize its patterns: its hauntingly perfect imitations, its deceptive stillness, and the way it instinctively targeted lone individuals who strayed from the group.

  ...

  Six months after the euthanasia of the first ESM, the team received their first lead. A string of disappearances in the dense forests of Montana had been attributed to bear attacks, but the details raised flags. None of the bodies were ever found, and witnesses reported eerie noises: sobbing, laughter, and even cries for help echoing through the trees.

  Agent Cassidy Voss, the team leader, was a seasoned survivalist with a scar that ran from her temple to her jaw—a memento from a close encounter with a mountain lion in her youth. Her team consisted of five operatives:

  Harris: The flamethrower operator and resident engineer.

  Mendez: A sharpshooter and tracker with an uncanny ability to stay calm under pressure.

  Priya: The team medic, whose deep empathy often put her at odds with the harsh realities of the mission.

  Gavin: A tech expert responsible for deploying drones and monitoring heat signatures.

  Grant: A towering brute of a man who served as the team’s muscle and morale booster.

  The team descended into the forest under cover of night, their movements as silent as the shadows they hunted. Gavin’s drones picked up faint heat signatures—something larger than a human, but smaller than a bear—moving in erratic patterns near a remote hiking trail.

  “It’s watching us,” Mendez whispered, crouching near a tree as the team advanced. “I can feel it.”

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  “Eyes up. Everyone stick together,” Cassidy ordered.

  Suddenly, the mimicry began.

  A child’s voice echoed from the darkness, faint but heart-wrenching: “Help me! Please, help me!”

  Priya froze. “That’s… it sounds like a little boy.”

  Cassidy grabbed her arm. “It’s not real. Stay focused.”

  The voice shifted, turning into a desperate plea in a woman’s tone: “I’m hurt! Please, I can’t walk!”

  The sound was so convincing that even Gavin hesitated, his grip tightening on his gear. But then Harris spotted it: a hunched figure in the distance, its elk skull gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

  “It’s here,” Harris muttered, igniting his flamethrower.

  The ESM moved faster than any of them expected. One moment it was in the distance, and the next it was barreling toward them, its hollow eye sockets dripping black ichor as it mimicked Cassidy’s voice perfectly: “Hold your ground! Don’t run!”

  Grant lunged forward, swinging a metal net with practiced precision. The net caught the creature mid-leap, its iron threads sizzling against its unnaturally tough skin. The ESM thrashed violently, its mimicry devolving into a chorus of overlapping voices: a crying baby, a snarling dog, and a woman’s laughter all at once.

  “Fire it up!” Cassidy shouted.

  Harris unleashed a blast from his flamethrower, engulfing the creature in flames. The ESM let out an unearthly shriek as the fire consumed it, the sound so piercing that even the seasoned operatives flinched.

  As the flames died down, the creature collapsed into a heap, its grotesque form charred and lifeless. But the team knew better than to assume the job was done.

  “Priya, confirm,” Cassidy ordered.

  Priya approached cautiously, her iron knife drawn. With a steady hand, she plunged the blade into the creature’s chest. There was no reaction—no mimicry, no movement. It was over.

  ...

  The team spent the rest of the night scouring the area for signs of other ESMs, but found nothing. By dawn, they had loaded the charred remains into a fireproof containment unit for transport back to their lab.

  As they packed up their gear, Priya sat on a fallen log, staring at the bloodstained ground where the ESM had fallen. “Do you ever wonder…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “What they remember? What they feel?”

  Cassidy didn’t answer immediately. She glanced at the containment unit, her expression unreadable. “We don’t have the luxury of wondering, Priya. We do the job. That’s all.”

  But as the team drove away from the forest, Cassidy couldn’t shake the image of the ESM’s hollow eye sockets and the faint, ghostly echo of a child’s voice.

  In the weeks that followed, Project Emberlight received more reports. The Montana incident was just the beginning.

  For every ESM they extinguished, the team couldn’t help but wonder: how many more were out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to be found—or to strike first?

  And what—or who—were they?