*NOVERIA, PEAK 15 RESEARCH FACILITY*
For Professor Han Olar, the day had started much the same as the hundreds before it. He had awoken early and toured the facility's subject containment cells to confirm that no unexpected anomalies had taken place during the night. After his walk, he had continued on to the mess for his usual breakfast of tasteless, synthetic coffee and a protein bagel with strawberry cream cheese. After he finished, he would have made his way to the lab to work on samples gathered from the previous day. Only today, he had barely sat down at one of the long benches in the deserted mess when the lights started to flicker and sway and dust trickled down from the ceiling.
For a few moments he figured it was simply the environmental systems team bungling through another systems check. He brought his steaming cup of coffee to the port on his suit, but an even larger tremor rocking the subterranean research station caused him to second guess his assessment. It was at that moment a wild eyed security guard came bursting into the room and very nearly tripped over his own feet. The young man eventually lost his fight with gravity as another bone-rattling quake thundered through the complex. Professor Olar swore and jumped up from his bench trying to keep the scalding hot brown liquid that had leapt from his cup onto his suit from reaching his skin. He angrily turned to the security guard who was already frantically scrabbling to his feet.
"What the hell is going on?"
The gangly youth, who couldn't have been older than twenty, didn't even turn to acknowledge the portly scientist.
"It's coming! Run!"
"What's coming? What the blazes are you blathering about?"
Olar got no more information out of the guard who had taken off running toward the other end of the mess in sheer terror. "Idiot forgot his gun." Han huffed to himself as he stooped to pick up the frightened man's sidearm.
He keyed open the radio from his omni-tool and switched to the station's security channel as another tremor fluttered through the hardened concrete floor. "Chief Pollard? This is professor Olar. One of your new recruits just came tearing through here like a bat out of hell. What is going on up there and where are these quakes coming from? Over."
He waited several seconds for a reply but none came. "Security Chief Pollard. Do you copy? Over."
Again his query was met with silence. "Worthless Earth Clan." He growled into his respirator as he headed out of the mess toward the lift that would take him to the Security Chief's office a few levels above, and dropped the pistol he now carried into one of the oversized pockets of his suit.
More than once, he nearly lost his footing as the floor beneath him periodically pitched in sympathy to the tremors that were continuing to intensify. "I bet it's those fools down in the power plant running some new sequence on the reactor. Those glorified electricians wouldn't know their assholes from a hole in the ground."
He swore again as another bone jarring vibration sent him sprawling against the bulkhead to his right. Weak pools of illumination glided around the interior of the cramped complex as the lights hanging overhead jumped and danced with every seismic jolt. The walls of hardened concrete, and reinforced palladium pinged as the foundations supporting them settled after each rattling tremor. Dust and snow continued to trickle down from the ceiling in tiny streams that were briefly visible when a light played across them but just as quickly disappeared when the erratic illumination danced away. As the professor continued on toward the lift it became increasingly difficult to see where he was going. At first he had thought the lights were simply losing power, and even tried to wipe off his view ports but to no avail. Then he realized it wasn't the amount of light that was the problem. It was the thin veil of wispy smoke that was steadily drifting down from above.
His previous irritation at the interruption of his daily routine was now slowly being replaced by a steadily growing sense of trepidation. That feeling was only magnified when he turned a corner and found what looked like a war zone. He couldn't make out many details in the hazy gloom, but what he did see caused his blood to turn cold. Nearly a dozen security guards were sprawled in a bloody tangle along the corridor. Swinging light bulbs provided fleeting glimpses of the bloody ruin in the unsettling smoky haze.
"Ugh…" The Volus had to work hard to keep what little was in his stomach from rising into his throat as he turned away from the grisly scene. After a few seconds of concentration he was able to exert control over his churning stomach once more and turned back to the carnage in his way.
"Chief Pollard! Dammit Chief, answer me!" He called out over his radio again but with the same results. He tried several other frequencies to reach the other departments of the facility but static was the only reply.
It was now clear in his mind that he wasn't dealing with some run-of-the-mill hiccup in the station's normal activities. They were under attack. From who, he had no guess. Binary Helix had no shortage of corporate enemies and if any one of them found out the kind of experimentation being done within his facility, he had no doubt they would come to put a violent stop to it. Still, the gratuitous spectacle in front of him seemed out of place for what any of those enemies would have done if they were conducting an assault. As he slowly inched forward he could see that most of the bodies were no longer whole. A lucky few were only missing large chunks of flesh from their upper torso and head, while the others were missing entire limbs or were so mangled as to be rendered completely unrecognizable as Human. His heart started to pound in his chest as a chilling thought flashed through his brain.
"The subjects have escaped…" He breathed to himself in a constricted whisper.
He quickly picked his way through the remnants of the security detail, and mass of gore slicking the floor, being careful not to slip when more tremors shook the complex. Unfortunately he was fighting a losing battle and ended up pitching forward to land heavily on the crimson flooded floor. He let out a strangled scream as he came face to face with the horrified death mask of one of the guards' decapitated heads. He didn't even notice the sticky, scarlet liquid soaking into his suit as he levered his rotund frame up to scramble forward, batting away the disembodied visage as he went. Eventually he made it out of the red swamp and back to untarnished concrete. He laboriously righted himself and bolted for the lift ahead, completely heedless of anything else around him. To his relief, the lift door was already open and the car was empty. He frantically typed in the code for the level containing the security office with blood-stained gloves. After several failed attempts, he finally forced himself to calm down and enter the code correctly. The lift car lurched upward in fits and starts on a warped mag track.
Olar slowly regained his breath from running down the nightmare hallway and relaxed his thudding heartbeat. As the car slowly climbed skyward, he took stock of his current situation. It seemed highly likely that the various test subjects housed in the complex had somehow escaped to wreak havoc on their jailers. It also seemed highly likely that he was the only one of the staff still alive and if, by some slim chance, there were still others they would need to fend for themselves. He knew the big wigs would be livid at the loss of an entire facility due to faulty containment, but he would still rather escape and take his chances than stay trapped with what was loose in the complex. To that end, he planned to make his hasty exit through the shuttle bay on the far side of the security office checkpoint and do his best to disappear after getting off world. Who knew, maybe he could even start a new life as some hyped up cosmetic surgeon for the galaxy's elite and live like a king surrounded by fabulous wealth and gorgeous women.
He had already started to plan how he was going to start his new life when the lift finally ground to a screeching halt at his destination. Thick, oily smoke billowed into the elevator car as the doors cycled open enveloped the professor in an almost impenetrable blanket. He hacked and coughed despite his air filters as the thick plume was sucked into his already burning lungs and threatened to overwhelm him. His eyes watered as he shuffled forward through the inky black shroud toward where his best guess of the security office should be. For several tense moments he feared becoming disoriented and slowly succumbing to smoke inhalation before he could find his way out. He mentally kicked himself for not spending the extra credits on a fully-contained, hazard-3 capable suit just as he was beginning to consider that he'd become turned around. As panic began to dig its icy claws into his heart, he spotted the tiniest flicker of orange light ahead. At first he was elated that he'd been going the right way, but his joy was short lived as it dawned on him what was producing the light.
He could feel the heat from the fires burning on the impassable wall of rubble left by the ceiling caving in as he neared. Snow was already starting to swirl in from above to mix with the noxious plume. With a heartfelt expletive he turned and headed back for the lift. It was a sizable setback but he wasn't without a plan B. Although that alternative meant he would have to again brave whatever stalked the lower levels in his bid for freedom. His vision swam and his head throbbed from the lack of clean air as he stumbled over the threshold of the lift. With great effort, he cycled in the code for the lab department. The doors loudly slid shut in front of him, although he couldn't see them. After what seemed like an hour, the elevator started its journey back the way it had come.
Straining air circulation units worked hard to rid the lift compartment of the suffocating cloud that had accompanied the professor in from the hall. He crowded into the corner where barely filtered air was streaming in from a small slitted vent and took a deep breath of the delicious, life-giving oxygen that wafted through his respirator. Even after the lift car had been mostly evacuated of the acrid plume, he remained glued to the vent while trying to settle his protesting stomach. He finally tore himself away from the vent when the doors of the elevator cycled open again. He was more grateful than he had ever been in his life that no smoke had reached this level of the complex as he stepped out into the dimly lit corridor.
He hurried off on his way toward the far end of the labs and the tram that would take him away from the crumbling facility. He would still have to traverse the breadth of the lab sector without becoming another casualty himself, but once he reached the other side he would be home free.
With all the stealth he could muster, he trundled from shadow to shadow in his quest to traverse the labyrinth. As he did he felt the weight of the previously forgotten pistol still in his suit pocket bumping against his thigh. He reached in to scoop it out and relished the satisfying weight in his hand. He'd never trained with firearms and barely knew how to use one except on the most basic level, but it still gave him a feeling of power to possess a weapon in his current situation. He fiddled with it for several moments before figuring out how to chamber the gun and turn off the safety. He clutched the handle tightly as he continued on his way. As he progressed he began to mentally congratulate himself for being able to stay cool under pressure and managing to be the only survivor out of a full research staff of almost one hundred and fifty. The tremors had even stopped. He started to feel almost confident as he brazenly pushed onward becoming less concerned with staying hidden. That was until he reached the containment wing.
His newfound confidence at having a weapon quickly evaporated as he imagined the horrors prowling through the darkened hallways on the other side of the door. For almost a minute he stood rooted to the spot staring at the hatch in front of him trying to muster the courage to continue on. His mind raced to find any other possibility of escape but in the end could not. He gripped his pistol with white-knuckle intensity and finally convinced himself that whatever was loose was most likely on a completely different level. He had probably been as close to it as he would get when he waded through the gory mess left in the passage on the staff housing level.
He kept trying to convince his terrified brain that this was the case but his legs still refused to even shuffle forward. Then he heard the faintest whisper of some unknown body part sliding against metal behind him. The gun came up in an instant as he whirled around to point its muzzle back the way he'd come. His eyes wildly searched for a target over the trembling sights of his pistol but couldn't see anything in the dimly lit gloom. He stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, but nothing came rushing out of the darkness to messily dismember him.
At long last, he reached out with his free hand to cycle open the door and stepped through. He immediately closed and locked it behind himself. Just as the flickering display on the hatch shifted from emerald to vermilion, something loudly impacted the other side. His mouth opened, but no sound escaped as he stumbled backward away from the hatch. His back butted up against a solid surface which halted his retreat. He stood in petrified terror as his eyes jerked from shadow to shadow. His pulse thundered in his ears and his stocky chest heaved with every adrenalin-fueled breath.
He stood there in stupefied horror, gun still pointed at the door before eventually regaining his wits enough to start moving. He clutched at his chest trying to regain his composure and steady his breathing before doubling over and retching out a stream of bitter bile into his mask. His body convulsed several times before he could straighten and cycle his suit's disposal routines to get rid of the sick pooling in his helmet.
"Son of a bitch…" He shakily cursed to himself as he activated the flashlight function on his omni-tool and pointed it further down the corridor.
His legs felt like they were filled with ice water but through force of will he managed to get them moving. The blood in his veins stopped cold as he turned back to see the crimson display on the hatch in the distance flicker and wink out. Without another thought, he turned and fled in sheer panic; any inclination to fight utterly overridden by the overwhelming need to escape.
He started to scream as sounds of his pursuer gaining on him reached his ears but he didn't dare look back. By no small amount of luck, and survival instinct, he tore around a corner and through the door leading to the tram. As he cleared the threshold, he tripped over something and went tumbling to the floor. He continued to scream as he brought the gun up again and madly swept it around looking for his assailant.
His breath hitched in his chest as the meager light of his omni-tool played across another nightmare like what he'd seen in the staff housing passage earlier. The passage was painted from floor to ceiling in sticky red gore. Unrecognizable chunks of meat and pieces of bone were strewn about like bits of confetti. He tried to frantically right himself and flee but couldn't get any purchase on the blood-slick concrete.
"Professor?"
His light immediately snapped to the source of the voice. "M… Morgan?" Morgan, one of his co-workers, was what he had tripped over. He could barely see at the edge of his light's circle of illumination that she was holding a makeshift tourniquet on her left thigh. It wasn't working very well as a river of scarlet still fountained from the deep gash further down her leg. "Morgan, we need to get out of here. One of them is right behind me!" He whispered frantically.
Her hollow looking visage tightened into a fearful grimace. "He… Help me up."
He rolled to his feet, and tried to yank her up heedless of the pain his action might be causing her. He could almost hear the telltale scratching of razor sharp claws sliding across the deck as he forcefully pushed her onward. 'Too slow. We're going too slow.' He thought frantically as she desperately limped along in front of him. They could hear a grating hiss joined by the breathy shrieks of several more baring down on them from behind. Sheer panic gripped his heart with ghostly fingers until he couldn't take it anymore. He roughly pushed the injured woman to the side, and fled as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. He heard her topple to the deck, but didn't turn to look.
In seconds he reached the tram, and bolted inside. Without so much as a backward glance to see where Morgan was, he hit the switch that would cycle the grav-train's doors shut. His lungs ached, and his heart pounded like a jackhammer as he tried to regain his wind. That abruptly ceased as he sucked in a terrified gasp when Morgan's blood spattered hand slapped the window.
"Olar, open the door!"
He didn't move.
She pounded the glass. "Han! Hurry, they're almost here! Open it now!"
Again he stood in stupefied horror, completely unwilling and unable to move.
Her voice cracked into a deathly shriek. "Han, please! I…"
Her last word was cut short as a spear-like appendage rocketed through her skull and out the other side to split it asunder like a ripe melon. As her lifeless corpse sagged to the floor, the Volus sat utterly silent staring at the crimson smear on the tram's window as it slowly pulled away from the station.