normally i'd post stuff like this to Gearsfics, but i might want to make an actual series out of this...idk yet
Niles Samson was cold. The facility couldn't afford proper heating, so he had to make due with a coat that didn't do much against the fierce winter of this area. He stood in the hall waiting on the elevator, trying to warm both of his hands around a hot cup of coffee.
The doors slid open and Bradley Morrison burst out like a bullet, his eyes bulging and his skin shiny with sweat.
"Doctor Morrison! Is everything all right?"
The taller, darker-haired man paused to stared back. His expression coupled with unkempt stubble made him look wild. "Niles, what are we doing?" He shook his head and continued down the hall.
Samson sighed and boarded the elevator. They'd have another quitter by the afternoon. He pressed the bottom button and sipped his coffee, pondering how he could convince Morrison to stay. The man was the last molecular biologist they had on the team.
The doors opened. This level of the facility was dark, being underground, but the foreboding feeling disappeared a long time ago. This was another part of his home, no different than a basement. He strode through the hall, past the labs and paltry break room towards the containment block.
For safety of both the subjects and the staff, the Sires and their children were kept behind sealed bulkheads. Opening them required the highest level of security clearance. Niles flashed his card in front of the red computer eye, which turned green in response. The heavy metal sections parted, allowing him entrance.
Like the others, Containment Block A resembled a prison. There were doors on his left and right all the way down the hall. The doors were solid slabs of concrete with metal slats that could be opened to deliver food. He couldn't see what was inside, and what was inside couldn't see or smell him.
His destination was the end of Containment Block A, where there were more labs and an operating theater. Experiments were necessary in understanding the creatures.
Niles opened the door to the operating theater. He shut the door quietly behind him and threw his empty foam cup in the waste bin. The other doctors looked at him, but said nothing.
There was a large blue curtain partioning the room. Niles moved behind it to change into a smock and wash his hands. When he returned to the operating floor, the head doctor, Beth Anders, spoke.
"Ready, Doctor Samson?"
"Of course."
The double doors on one side of the wall flew open a few minutes later. A couple of men wheeled in a gurney that his mutated wife was strapped to.
She was pretty once, and smart. One day she began experiencing symptoms. She didn't work at the facility, so the only explanation was that the pathogen found her by clinging to Niles. Hers was the first case of the disease being spread by fomites, and also the first case of a woman who was pregnant prior to mutation.
Lilith was sedated before being brought out of her cell, and a breathing tube and IVs had already been inserted. Her chest moved at a slow rhythm, her eyes shut. Her stomach was swollen, covered with stretch marks; nobody knew what to expect of the baby. Most of the fetal development occurred after her mutation, and while ultrasounds showed a normal child, the skeptic in Niles was uncertain. He admitted he felt slight apprehension over being a first time father, as well.
Anders and her team crowded around Lilith in a hurry. Niles stepped forward. He wasn't going to participate-even if he wasn't squeamish, he had no idea what to do-but he wanted to be present. This was technically his fault, so he would have felt like he was dodging responsibility if he wasn't here.
He watched Anders slice open what used to be his wife. She deftly moved organs out of the way to get to the uterus. She was careful for the fetus's sake, but she knew what the end result would be. It didn't matter, as long as the child survived.
It was over quicker than Niles expected. Anders pulled the baby out of Lilith and announced, "Congratulations. You have a daughter."
Congratulations were in order, but not because he had a child. He already knew he had a child. The miracle was that she looked human.
His daughter didn't cry much, and now slept in an incubator in the same room where she had been born. Lilith had already been euthanized and disposed of. Niles was alone with the baby, sitting at her side.
Was he supposed to feel some amazing fatherly affection? He remained cold, like the air and floor and the snow outside.
Lilith died several months ago. Her body had just now followed. If he was still hung on that, he had to let it go already. There was a new baby to take care of and study. This baby also needed a name.
There was a name Lilith loved. When she found out she was pregnant, she was adamant about choosing it for their potential daughter. Niles protested, suggesting names that were more conservative, but now he reconsidered. It was a good way to honor her memory.
As Niles gazed at her, imagining the name on her, he got an idea. Morrison just had a son, so Niles could ask for parental advice and hopefully get the biologist to stay. He smiled, but it was more appreciation than affection. His girl was already useful.
He stood and exited the room. He found Anders outside, out of her surgeon's smock, her black hair tied in a knot. She must have thought he was crying, because she looked sympathetic. "I've decided on a name," he said.
"Oh? Let's hear it."
"Myrrah. Her name is Myrrah."