Some media outlets have honestly assumed that the first Sochi Olympics mishap occurred within the first 10 minutes of the Opening Ceremony and then swiftly descended into chaos shortly thereafter.
The doomed course on which the Olympics found itself was actually determined years earlier. One of my agents was tasked with covering the entire games, starting from the initial construction phase of Fisht Stadium through the end of the Winter Paralympics. The events that took place are both terrifying yet eerily plausible.
We have been exchanging emails since the beginning of his assignment. Below is a summary of the events witnessed by our field agent, collated from multiple email threads:
“I was overseeing the larger construction efforts as a liaison between Populous (the firm behind the design of the Olympic buildings) and the Sochi chapter of the Union of Russian Architects, where we were getting our Russian workers that would actually build the site. The “incident” began during the end phase construction of the Fisht stadium and its outlying buildings (The Bolshoy Ice Dome and Shayba Arena) when a bulldozer tipped sideways and fell into a large hole. The hole seemed to appear out of nowhere from the ground, like a sinkhole, but much more stable afterwards.
“After the dust settled, we were able to peer inside. The bulldozer had fallen in the middle of an underground cavern, complete with interlocking tunnels and a shallow lake. I was the first to notice a pulsating violet light coming from one of the tunnels far below. The pulsing was unnerving, unnatural and clearly stood out from the rest of beautiful underground area. A few of the braver workers and I started down the hole with flashlights and lengths of rope. The rest stayed behind, waiting for the crane we called to pull the bulldozer out. The driver was miraculously uninjured and had already climbed out to survey the area.
“The further we went into the hole, the brighter and faster the light seemed to become. Soon, we no longer needed our flashlights. A tunnel we followed on ground level ended in a round room with a glowing, egg-shaped structure standing in the center. It was much too big to actually be an egg – it was more than double my own height and had the outside texture of a rocky boulder, but it certainly had the overall shape of an egg.
“One of the workers moved closer to the egg rock and shined his flashlight on it, possibly to try to see inside of it, but the rock outside was too thick to see anything clearly except for the same violet glow, which was pulsating even faster than before, like a strobe light. We agreed to turn back, but the worker who had tried to look inside decided to smack the side with the bottom of his flashlight, possibly curious to see what would happen.
“Something did happen. The outer rocky shell of the egg cracked and began to fracture in large pieces, like the surface of an icy lake starting to splinter. Within moments, before we could comprehend what was going on, the egg exploded. A thick black ‘yolk’ shot outwards in burning hot arcs, covering the entire room and everything in it, including us. The yolk landed with heavy thuds on our clothes and exposed flesh and anywhere it touched was instantly aflame. It landed only on my shirt, which I throw to the back of the cave wall. The others, in various stages of undress and flames, ran screaming back to the tunnel entrance.
“For the moment I was unharmed and I had an intense curiosity of the broken egg. However, any living thing, if it ever existed in the egg, was gone. It was then that I heard a faint rasping sound. The fool with the flashlight was still in the cave room with me, crumpled in a fetal position on the ground, covered head to toe with the black yolk. I held my hand out to touch him or comfort him (I was in shock and not thinking clearly) but he spun on the ground to face me and stared straight into my eyes as he said ‘The destruction of the child heralds Her coming. Our world will be offered to the Dragon Nest Mother at the lighting of our own paltry cookfire. Prepare now for the cleansing flame!’ I ran out of the tunnel, not looking back.
“The rest is easily recounted. I tried desperately to assemble a team to prevent the lighting of the Olympic torch for the games, but pickings were slim. Those who believed my story turned out to be fools who could not be trusted. Those I approached seriously found my story silly and far-fetched. Really, who can fault them? Perhaps it was impossible to prevent doomsday.”
This is the last email I received. I don’t believe we will be getting more:
“I was deliberately hiding something in my previous emails. The black yolk did not just get on my shirt. Some of it stained the back of my hand when the man turned on me. After he spit out his insane ramblings, he tried to kill me. I had to fight him off and that’s when it happened. Since then, I have been afraid to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I hear the roar of the dragon and it is a sound born of terrible darkness. Today, I have been hearing it while awake. I will not last the rest of the day. There are precious few moments until I no longer control my own thoughts. I must send this to you as my Last Will and Testame My Dragon roars. Now Her words are clear. The future is an eternal rain of righteous fire. Such sweet pain I feel. Prepare now for the cleansing flame! x sorry fo”
Our Paralympics coverage will not be affected by these events. Unless the fire thing happens.