Jack craned his head around the doorway to make sure that whatever creature was there was not waiting down the hall. He saw nothing but heard the pitter-patter of feet- or hands- scampering away. He cursed to himself. It was almost completely dark save the somewhat-illuminating beam of his newly-acquired flashlight. After making sure the coast is clear, he went back to the desk and ripped out drawer to look for something else- anything that can be of use. Jack noticed a large, asymmetrical hole ripped out of the back of the drawer. He pushed the desk aside and looked in disturbed wonder at a large hole made in the wall, narrowing away into a small tunnel. He could hear noises coming from the hole and decided it was no longer in his best interest to stay.
As he walked out of the now pitch-black hospital room, he kept himself relatively calm by prioritizing in his head.
Step one, he thought, find combat uniform and anything that can be used as a weapon. Step two, seek out other humans while retaining Level 7 cautionary protocol. Step three-
He shined his flash light rhythmically from one side of the hallway to the other as his footsteps echoed on the bare tile floor. He noticed that, the more he walked on, the more unsanitary substances he found on the wall. He could identify blood and rust fairly easily, but there was something else on the wall too, something he couldn't quite recognize until he came closer. He refused to touch it with his bare finger, so he took the scalpel and prodded it gently. It split open like a sac, excreting blood and chunks of hair and bone. A layer of muscle shone underneath.
Jesus Christ, Jack thought grimly, liquefied flesh.
Jack heard a noise from the left-hand side. He swiveled his flashlight over to see the round circle of light break on the unsanitary walls. He found a side hallway. He paused for a moment, steadying himself and preparing for anything that lay beyond. He checked for a moment. The silence held over the whole floor as Jack squeezed his flashlight just a little- to make sure it was still there, to assure himself that he at least had light if nothing else. Finally, after some deep breathing, he silently turned the corner and saw that it was a short hallway free of any signs of life. He sighed in relief, then tensed up again, wondering whether or not the sound alerted anyone. He heard nothing, so he walked forward, trying to keep his bare feet silent by simply shuffling along the narrow hall. It ended at a corrugated red set of double doors. They each had a narrow rectangular window. Jack looked through it and saw absolutely nothing. He placed his hand on the handle and turned.
It was locked. He heard the pattering of feet behind him. He didn't wnat to turn around. Turning around showed him what he was facing. Turning around meant he couldn't just ignore his problem. Turning around always scared the shit out of him. But he had to turn around.
There was nothing there. A sweep over the whole area, floor-to-ceiling, showed nobody or nothing in the hall.
The lock clicked behind him and the door swung open. Jack spun around on his heel and turned towards the room, cursing for a moment, then stopping. It took all his courage not to drop the flashlight. There were bodies. Bodies lined the room in different sections. Eyeless torsos with bat wings were in one walled-off corner of plexiglass. Bodies sewn together by amputated limbas appeared like a twisted kaleidoscope. Other things. Creatures with jaws extended to their feet. Creatures covered in eyeballs. All formerly human. And all alive. And in the center was an eight-year old girl. Her breathing was erratic, and she was hooked up to a heart and blood pressure monitor. The constant beeping coincided with the agonized moans of the twisted beings. Her jaw was missing and she was hooked up to hundreds of wires. He could see her jolt as electric pulses were sent through her small, frail body. Jack could barely breahe. He gagged on the now obvious putrid stench of iodine and blood. He took a step forward, and then felt the needle perforate the skin on his right arm. Liquid fire coarsed into his veins. He screamed, arched his back, and in the process saw a tall man with round-rimmed spectacles adress him with a smile that would have been somewhat charming had his face not been covered in blood spatter.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Adrian. I see you've left your quarters. I'm afraid that will never do."
And then the pain crescendoed in his head as his muscles spasmed, and he was thrown to the ground. He screamed openly and he supposed through the wincing of the liquid fire in his veins that the scream could be heard all across the building. Then he could barely think about what death was like before he passed out, unconscious, on the stained, blood spattered floor.
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