The smell was putrid. It invaded your nostrils and filled your sinuses, causing them to slightly burn. The foul odor was inescapable, hot, and steaming just like a slime it was birthed from. Slippery and thick was the ooze that spread along the tile floor, the consistency much like a mix of water and glue. It stuck to your shoe and refused to tear away from the mass of gunk that was still fresh from the electrical burn. Like a witch's cauldron, the melted flesh was still bubbling and occasionally popped from steam build-up, spraying even more slime all over the place. Just like the stench it gave off, it was everywhere.

Of course, it was no problem for the Splice of Life (SoL) field team. Decked out in hazmat suits and Geiger counters, they scanned the sea of gremlin puddles for any hint of radiation, ultimately coming across none. Still, they dare not remove their suits for fear of inhaling any possible gas the flesh may give off. Just because it wasn't poisonous, doesn't mean it was pleasant to breathe.

As the CEO of the building they were scouring through gave an outlandish and gaudy interview, the SoL crew scraped the hot grime from the floor and into vials to secure the precious DNA. They picked out the green gristle that floated in the puddles and placed them into red, airtight bags labeled Hazardous. They knew they could not collect all the DNA. Not with a private militia watching their every move with fingers that twitched on their triggers. So, the team picked out the most choice bits from the sea of melted skin and bones.

A few samples were collected from a pile that oddly had a cigar sticking out of it. Another chunk was delicately plucked from the puddle next to it, which had a pair of large teeth residing in the middle of it. Some more samples were scooped into jars and bags from various piles.

One worker spotted an adorably small, grey suit swimming in its own little pool. They carefully stepped through the sea of muck, making their way over out of curiosity. The fieldworker bent down and with their own set of long tweezers carefully pulled a pair of round-rimmed glasses that dripped with the ick it was floating in. With some more DNA collection from that specific puddle, they placed the spectacles in a red bag for later analysis.

It took all day to clean up the mess, the CEO, Daniel Clamp, not wanting the SoL team to take any more DNA. He berated them for causing such a disaster in the first place and refused to listen to their denials. However, he did allow them to stay and monitor the cleanup crew that was hired, in case there were any more of the creatures left. He said, "they'll need all the help they can get if any of the little bastards are left," before leaving with his private army. It didn't make much sense, but neither did most of his visions.

Fortunately, there was only one "little bastard" left. It was discovered along with Clamp's head of security, Frank Forster. The cleanup crew made quick work of it using a flamethrower that was left for their protection. Much to the Splice of Life team's dismay, however. After learning of the gremlin's demise, they mourned the loss of having a live test subject to take apart and potentially put back together again with something else. With some convincing, they managed to extract a sample from that burned flesh as well. It was quite the spectacle as well, with Forster screaming obscenities at the janitorial team for "murdering" his bride. He was quickly ushered away and left out in the building's lobby with no pants and lipstick stains on his face.

The last field researcher in the building watched as the custodians mopped away the remaining sludge, lamenting the DNA that was being ruined with mop water. He glanced up at the numberless clock that hung from a nearby pillar, noting that he was going to be late for his wedding.

Six years later

"Careful, careful." Harvey Little muttered to himself. With great care, he poured the green liquid from a beaker into a thin vial. He quickly corked it shut, letting out a sigh of relief. He placed the vial in a centrifuge, shutting the door of the machine and turning it on. He watched through the door's window as the vial spun, slowly separating the microscopic pieces of flesh from the blood it held. With a tired yawn, he looked towards the clock that hung from a nearby pillar, a fleeting sense of deja vu interrupting his train of thought. The clock read eight pm. A bit early, but he had been avoiding sleep for the last two days.

With a thoughtful hum, he adjusted his glasses, letting out an annoyed huff. He expected she'll be calling him any minute now. So, he got up from the table with notes scattered about, arching his back until it popped satisfyingly. He ruffled his own brown hair out of habit and removed his lab coat. He tossed it behind him as he walked away, not needing to look back to see it land on his chair.

He clapped twice, the lights shutting off a mere second later. He had about fifteen minutes before he needed to return to his blood, plenty of time for his ten-minute nap to be interrupted by an expected call. He left his personal, small laboratory, heading straight for the break room down the hall. He let himself in, paying no mind to one of his many interns chugging an energy drink. He allowed himself to fall onto the break room's couch, removing his glasses with a simple flourish of his hand at the last second before making contact with the cushions.

He closed his eyes as he felt sleep beckon him to peaceful oblivion.

Which lasted for approximately ten seconds because his phone started to ring in his pocket. With a frustrated groan, he rolled over onto his back, bringing the device to his ear and answering.

To which he was met with his wife screaming bloody murder about missing the birth of his daughter. Harvey sighed, rolling his eyes. He let his wife go on and on about never being there for her. He tuned it out, his eyes fluttering close as he started to drift off to the sound of his shouting wife.

Or rather, his ex-wife since she announced that she was leaving him. In response, the phone fell from Harvey's hand as he passed out on the couch with not a care in the world, except for the blood that was still spinning away in his centrifuge.

Twenty-five years later

Harvey was called many things. A heartless monster, capitalist, nerd, four-eyes, Father; the list goes on. However, there was one title he did not own. A fact that made him reveal a rare smile. It was "a failure." No, he never failed. Some may argue otherwise, but he knew himself, he never once failed at anything.

A perfectionist in his ambitions and a model worker of the Splice of Life: Research and Development team. He was always looking for a breakthrough in his field. Something to make him stand out among the rest as the perfect genetic engineer. He knew he was on his employer's radar, but never did anything worthy of a promotion or upgraded pay.

Oh, he cured a few cancers and developed talking cats, but trivialities like that mean nothing to a man of his stature. He wanted, no, craved the approval of his superiors. It meant everything to him. If he did not abide by professionalism, one could have easily mistaken him for a lap dog licking at the boots of his master.

Yes, he was many things, but again, not a failure. Even as he watched his daughter kicking and screaming, he knew he did not fail her. Mostly because he didn't really consider her his daughter. Sure, he fed her, clothed her, and took her to song and dance class, but if only to keep her from whining too much.

It would have been so easy to leave her with his ex-wife, but due to some unfortunate circumstances involving a bottle of pills and vodka, the courts wouldn't recognize her corpse as an official guardian. Which, to him, was ridiculous, but he went along with it. If only to avoid any police sniffing after him.

As watched the security guards toss his offspring into a padded room, he recalled the day he signed her life away to SoL. A day he never once regretted. Of course, they had to wait until she was a fully developed adult before splicing any of her DNA, but it was well worth the wait. He knew this. Every excruciating day taking care of that… parasite was worth it. He was looking forward to his first peaceful night in twenty-five years. He could have let her move out at eighteen, but unfortunately, he needed to keep a sharp eye on her to ensure nothing happened to her precious DNA.

But when the time came, it was glorious. He can still hear her screaming and crying.

Oh, wait, she's still doing that.

Harvey walked up to the heavy, steel door that kept his daughter in the padded room. He reached up, sliding open a panel to peek into the room. As expected, he was met with the face of his crying daughter. He watched with a coldness in his eyes as she pleaded for him to let her go. He almost laughed at hearing her apologize for whatever she had done. How silly. She hadn't really done anything. It wasn't her fault, of course. It wasn't anybody's. If not her, it would have been some other employee's child.

"Honestly, Casey. You really need to pull yourself together. That is no way to behave." Harvey scolded, noting how her red and yellow eyes dilated with shock. Simply fascinating. "I will return tomorrow to take some blood samples from you. For now, rest. You'll certainly need it." He slid the panel shut, ignoring the pleas of mercy that spilled from her mouth.

He almost turned to leave, but then a thought came to him. He slid the window back open, seeing how Casey's eyes lit up with hope. "Oh, and try not to cry too much. You'll disturb your roommate and he needs his rest too." And with that, he slid the panel shut after catching the defeated look in her eyes.

As he walked away, he heard the muffled scream of his daughter discovering her new roommate.