3

Timidly, Paul inched his way down the long dark hallway that led to the lab. There were no lights of course, as the university hadn't given the Professor enough money to light the entire factory, only the lab itself, which was a good distance inside the bowels of the old steel factory. Paul had never been in the lab, which was strictly off limits to all but the Professor's research team, but he assumed that if there was a place in the factory with power, that would be it. Paul's job during his rounds was to inspect the four hallways that skirted the perimeter of the lab, checking for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, which there never was. Paul doubted that anyone even knew this place existed, maybe even the faculty heads at the University itself. He shook off a sense of foreboding left over from the Unsolved Mysteries episode, and pushed his way through the darkness of the hallway.

Paul strained his eyes to see as he made his way to the lab, watchfully aiming his flashlight at anything he felt warranted it. Like the rest of the abandoned factory, the hallway was a mess, as there was no one left to clean, or perform regular maintenance. Plastic sheeting strewn about the floor, exposed piping and electrical conduit ran across the walls. Insulation, along with random sections of wire, hung from the ceiling, casting ominous shadows from Paul's flashlight. Each time he walked this hall, he thought the scene to be straight off the set of the movie Aliens.

"Guess that makes me Ripley." Paul whispered to himself, trying to lighten the mood.

He tried moving his legs faster, but found them to be stiff and refusing command. He wanted to be out of this place as soon as possible, but knew that he had to finish his rounds before he could. His legs didn't seem to mind, and only mildly obeyed his brain's commands.

Eventually, Paul reached the door that led to the lab. It was a large stainless-steel monstrosity, put here by the professor, and looked to be only one step shy of a bank vault's door. Paul's belly turned with nervous excitement. To him, the mass of metal signified the end to his rounds. All he needed was to quickly scan the thick door for any tampering, a task made easier by the fact that this small section of hallway was the only part of his rounds that had electrical lighting, and make his way back to the guard shack where he would wait for the Professor, and tell him the good news about his imminent application to the University. Perhaps soon, he would truly get to call Duncan, Professor. His heart froze in fear when he looked down at the locking bolt.

Instead of seeing the familiar large metal handle, and locking keypad, Paul found only a fist size hole, completely burnt out from the thick steel. The alloy appeared to have been melted away, as though it was little more than warm butter. Paul backed up, and twisted his head up to the security camera, which had been bolted to the wall and directed down at the door. It's power cord had been torn away.

He stood dumbfounded for what felt like an eternity, though he knew that in reality, only a few seconds had passed. He knew what he was supposed to do. What he should do. He should turn around, get back to the phone in the guard shack as quickly as possible, and call the police. He needed to move, he needed to run! Any reasonable person would. Which was why he so shocked to find himself reaching for the hole in the door, and gently tugging on the door, opening it as quietly as he possibly could. He supposed that he was wrong. He wasn't a reasonable person.

Before he knew it, he was sliding through the doorway, against all apparent sense.

Ripley wouldn't be this stupid. He thought to himself as he pierced the darkness.