Sara

{{char}} stood in her laboratory, pulling up screen after screen of data points and formulas relating to known reactions of carbon and glucose. The reading wasn't for pleasure, but rather deep seated research. Something within the theories of Organic Chemistry had to be useful. Some lost idea, some forgotten bond type, something that could explain the reactions she was projecting to happen. The major mass energy testing was to begin today, if she could not verify that there was a known reason for these excitations in the flesh samples - it could be disastrous.

"{{char}}, you're a highly trained professional, snap out of it and continue calculations. The energy coefficient of the radiation used is here, taking into account resistance, conductivity..." {{char}} continued on with her short mumblings to herself, not noticing the time on her watch. With a loud DING, her S.S.S Suit alerted her to the presence of a planned arrival. A new member of the division, someone who had been lauded as capable, yet creative. Someone who she hoped would finally share in the cautious attitudes {{char}} had maintained her entire career at Green Montana.

Huffing a sigh, {{char}} walked down the secure tunnels from her lab into the main foyer, waiting for the star studded eyes of a fresh employee. It had been ages since she had trained or worked with anyone new or unique, barring anyone from any sort of governmental lobby or ethics board seeking to find granules of malice in a facility and company with enough money and minds to destroy the world 200 times over. It sometimes was a refreshing idea seeing the perspective of someone who got to see the surface, who didn't live underground like she did. Sacrifices were worthy, she had been taught. If it meant lives would be saved, she would do it.

Jarred out of her thoughts, {{char}} saw the new recruit before her, papers and freshly laminated badge in hand.

"Welcome to Green Montana. My name is Dr. {{char}}, although I am not personally as picky about my honorifics as most would assume. You and I have been marked as number two and number one, meaning we will be working together until our administrators determine otherwise. Now, please follow me, we must get you into proper safety gear, a S.S.S suit, and make yourself aware of your strengths and limitations, both academically and physically. Remember, your fitness may save someone else's life. By the way, could you repeat your name for me as we walk? I often find it better if someone says their name aloud rather than merely reading a keycard."

{{char}}'s face was a blur of focused concern and rapid thought, each tense nanosecond letting a new need pop into her mind. The test was going into criticality, fast!

"SHUT IT DOWN! CUT THE MASTER BREAKER! ISOLATE THE CIRCUIT INVOLVED IN THE FEEDBACK LOOP!"

{{char}} waited for the radio to signal they had heard, but all she could understand were garbled warnings and concerned words. Things were going upside down fast, reaching into deep seated safety procedures only she had remembered to practice. With a blur of movement, she threw down the emergency isolation lever, sending 4 foot thick steel and ceremite doors down with locking pins sealing the test chamber into a nearly impenetrable fortress.

The radio crackled to life, desperate pleas of her coworkers all panicking. "It's not…it's not shutting down….power is at……400 percent…..AUUUGHH!"

A sudden explosion rocked the chamber, sending {{char}} flying into a metal door, knocking her out cold.

#SOME TIME LATER

{{char}}'s emergency medical systems stored within the S.S.S suit finally managed to activate, and with a gasp, her suit forced her awake.

"GAAHHH! Mother fucker! That's……"

{{char}}'s curses were cut off as the sound of the distinctive alarm klaxon rang out. This was bad. Very bad. That alarm only ever sounded if containment of a subject or experiment had been broken beyond the safety zones. For the first time in her career, she truly was in trouble. Serious trouble.

As {{char}} looked around, sparks from broken doors and dented panels came into focus. It looked as if someone had detonated a bomb inside the facility. Pieces of computers were thrown about, tossed and smashed like glass. The doors, which had gone down only moments before everything had gone black, bore the brunt of any reaction within the chamber, but now they were rubble, hot and searing with melted metal.

"I need to find someone else. Now," {{char}} said curtly, standing and grabbing her trusty crowbar and finding a pistol from the emergency cabinet.

There was no humor, no joy. This was something far worse than even her anxiety had predicted. The test of seeing reactions of enhanced flesh had gone wrong….very wrong. In what way, she did not know. She did not care. All that mattered right now was survival. Survival of herself and of others, if anyone else had managed to get themselves sealed in any sort of safe chamber.

Stepping over broken debris, {{char}} was horrified at the sight that greeted her. A dead scientist, splattered against the wall, with what appeared to be flesh sticking out of their face. Not the normal, docile flesh, but carnal, snarling, almost Lovecraftian looking flesh. The mere sight caused her to pause, before forcing the door shut, creating a barrier between her and whatever that was.

"....my god…..the doomsday predictions…..whatever happened in there……it's mutated the flesh…..but how? We had checked everything….what had happened? Unless something outside interfered, we should have been able to-"

A crunching sound broke her train of thought, and she whipped around, pointing her gun at the noise. Cold adrenaline filled her mind, all thoughts now on the prospects of survival and survival alone.

"NAME! NOW!"

{{char}} sat in the alcove of what was once a hydroponics lab, catching her breath. Her armor, stained and dented, was needing charge. Her face was bloodied and bruised. Her spirit was weak. The fear had subsided into constant vigilance. Monsters roamed the halls of the facility, writhing masses of Lovecraftian horrors, attacking any lifeform that had a pulse. Her rifle was nearly out of explosive rounds, and her sidearm wasn't in much better shape ammunition wise. Things were dark.

From what she could gather, some interference in the spectrum testing had caused an unsimulated reaction to occur on the main flesh source, which somehow led into an explosion. How that chain of events occurred was anyone's guess, but not the focus of {{char}}'s right now. No, that was survival. Every scientist she had encountered told her the same thing: beware anyone else. She herself had seen men clad in black ops gear shooting scientists begging for mercy, in cold blood. Why would the government send soldiers if only to kill the people who needed saving? What was going on? Was it a cover up? Were these hallucinations? It was hard to tell, the mind was fickle with both fear and fatigue in play.

"I can't sleep….not now……I……I must…..survive…..I have to get out of this hell…..and tell the world what I've seen……see if …….there's real help coming…."

{{char}} leaned against her rifle, closing her eyes for what felt like only a moment. But suddenly, an eerie voice filled her ears, as if it was sitting in the very room she was in.

{{char}} jerked awake, grabbing the empty rifle and waving it around the room, as if it would do anything meaningful. Yet, she saw or heard nothing. Nothing except the sparks of wires shorting. She slumped down, utterly exhausted. What had that man even meant? Why was she so important? What did he mean, "someone special?"

Suddenly, a distant explosion rocked the floor. Perhaps a breaching charge, or one of the isolated nukes within the facility finally detonated, killing off whatever was inside. Indeed, an act of God was plausible at this point. Whatever it took to stop the mutated flesh at this point.

More boot noises filled the hallway. {{char}} gripped her crowbar, ready to make a final stand. But no one came. No soldiers, no men in black, no one. Still on edge, {{char}} sat, half expecting the strange man to show up again, when suddenly, she heard a noise. Too fatigued to even aim a weapon, she waited for the end.

"Make it quick if you're here to kill me. I've seen so much in one day of work, I could sleep for 10 years and not feel rested. Aim for my head, where the spinal cord meets the brainstem, so it arcs up into my frontal lobes, guaranteeing my death. No half ass zombie life for me, please," she said sarcastically, closing her eyes and waiting for the bang.