***January 1st, 2018 - 1741 hours.

I turned the ignition counterclockwise and the motor faded as silence filled the car. I got out as my 25 inch wallet chain dragged across the seat and hit the side of the car, making a rather loud clang. I love wearing stuff that jingles.

The Coffee Bean's doors opened and it seemed as Jake, the cashier, was happy to see me. "Hey Kelly, how's it going?"

"Not much," I said. "How's your cold?"

"A bit better, thanks. The usual?"

"What else is there?" I nodded as Jake rung up a regular Mocha Ice Blended and I payed my $5.80. There was no one in the store today, just me. A bit of a change. Usually this place would be filled with parents, kids in karate uniforms getting a little treat.

"And...here you go, Kell." He handed me the drink. I shivered slightly as I took the frosty beverage; I had arm warmers on, but I guess they weren't working for me today. I thanked him and left, but not before Jake tossed a "Happy New Year" toward me as I was closing the door. Thankfully, I heard him and waved back over my shoulder through the window.

I hopped back into my car. I don't understand why people don't like these box cars. Everyone in Europe has one. I love mine. It's my second home; it really is. I could totally live in it.

As I drove into Hidden Hills and inched closer toward my house, I couldn't help but notice the mail man walking from our front door. My heart skipped a beat. Thoughts raced through my mind. Is that it...could it be...oh man...this is gonna be good...

I pulled in rather fast, running over part of a bush on the side of the driveway. I slammed my car door (I don't remember turning the car off) as I saw it. A thick brown package, nothing inconspicuous...except to me. I grabbed it tight as I walked through the black door into the Delgada household.

I'm kind of a goth, but not really; more like half and half. I wear gothic stuff, you know, like 18 inch boots, chains everywhere, fishnets, anything made by Tripp, but I'm not emotionally troubled like most goths tend to be. LIke at my school, they just give me weird looks, except for my friends. So when my boots echoed as they stomped, it was pretty damn loud enough for my mom to abruptly appear in the door way. "Is that it?" she asked.

"You better believe it," I said.

My mom smiled as she looked at the six pound package. "You know, I don't even know how you like that kind of music. It's kinda demeaning."

"Mom, you shouldn't reflect others by what music they listen to. Didn't you work at Interscope for, like, eight years? You of all people should know...

She interrupted me, a rare occasion. "Since when are you to criticize me, Kel?"

I gave a grin, right in her face, like a huge yet quiet "haha." Before she could do anything else, I was galloping toward my room. Another echo down the hallway, "Hey, have you seen your brother?"

"Probably fucking around outside," I half-sang, and when I entered my room, I shut the door a little too hard; the knob came off and cracked the marble beneath. I laid the package on my couch and grabbed the nearest thing that I could use to open it - a spoon.

Slowly but surely the box opened little by little and I could already smell the amazingness inside. I threw the spoon toward my boston terrier Spark, who sniffed it and started to chew on it, and I opened the cardboard box at last.

After the bubble wrap was tossed aside (to pop later), the letters Halo Thirty Seven shined brightly into my eyes. So did the words Ghosts V-VIII, a golden lettering, beneath the white Nine Inch Nails logo, which hadn't changed in thirty years. I felt a chill.

I took out the first CD and placed it gingerly in my CD player. I couldn't wait to test out the brand new surround system I had just got set up...well, maybe I had it set up for a month, just waiting for the CDs to come, while the monitors were gathering dust.

I turned up the volume to half its capacity and pressed the big rubber Play button. I waited for the ecstasy.

It came.

I let the sound pressure push me on to my Tempur-Pedic and allowed the stunning music pump through my speakers and into my two ears, organs I would die without. The first track finished, then the second. I felt like I was on nitrous oxide, and I couldn't remember being happier. Spark, however, felt differently and left my room in a huff.

"Heh, can't handle it huh?" I said out loud. Then the third song came, and then halfway through the fourth...

BANG.

I sprang up. What was that, I thought. It wasn't a plate breaking, or a window shattering - it was way louder. It almost sounded like...a gunshot.

I didn't bother to hit Pause as I emerged from my room and closed the door behind. Ghosts V-VIII sounded muffled as I slowly walked toward the kitchen, where I figured the sound had come from. I came closer and closer, half crawling against the wall, until I finally reached the kitchen.

Spark lay flat on the floor, blood oozing from his body.

"Oh....my god..." I lay there as the blood stains in his beige fur started to spread. I was helpless; all i could do was watch the lifeless dog on the marble. "MOM!!" I finally managed to scream. I heard thumping and I saw my mom collapse on the stairs and tumble down. "Holy shit!" I yelled, and went to see if at least she was still alive. I checked her pulse. I felt it, but then...

CLANG.

I fell backward slowly and hit my head on the ground as a crowbar dropped about a foot away from me. White light began to seep into my eyes. I might have heard my music in the background, but I definitely heard more clearly:

"Welcome to Project Xaeda. We hope you will cooperate."