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CH.16 Don't Breathe

Three nude beings with skin like raw meat lay on their backs, pink protuberances jutting from their spines. They stared skyward, entranced by the white light beaming onto them. One creature sensed Rebecca's presence and whipped its head toward her with preternatural speed. She ducked just in time. Crawling on elbows and knees to avoid detection, Rebecca slipped into the right-side room.

A dead scientist greeted her with a lifeless gaze. She wound through lab tables and debris, making her way closer to potential refuge. The zombies in robes took no notice as she passed by the doorway and arrived at the cracked-open armored door. With utmost care, she pushed it wider and slid into the space beyond.

The sterilized white walls and vivid lighting of the antivirus laboratory provided little comfort. Rebecca secured the heavy door behind her with a resounding click that echoed in the stillness. She surveyed the destruction - operating tables overturned, glass cabinets smashed, equipment strewn across the tiled floor. The bodies of the scientists laid contorted, wounds telling the horrific ends they had met.

The S.T.A.R.S officer approached the armored corpse slumped by the far door, military fatigues soiled by blood and dust. She rifled through his vest, finding a set of keys and a flare gun that she swiftly pocketed. Across the lab, a machine hummed rhythmically, rows of vibrantly colored vials on display behind thick glass.

Consulting a nearby notebook labeled "Antivirus Sample 098" Rebecca began following instructions, combining fluids with deft precision until she produced a gently glowing blue solution. Opening the capsule, she deposited the liquid carefully inside the high-tech device. It began agitating the mixture, components hissing as they lowered the temperature.

A dripping trail caught Rebecca's attention to a shattered capsule, over two meters tall. Jagged glass edges jutted out ominously, traces of crystalline residue dusted the floor nearby. She crouched down, gloved fingers grazing a viscous substance - this had housed something alive recently.

The incessant beeping of a monitor broke the silence. Rebecca approached the gore-spattered screen, scrolling through emails titled "Hey Alice" and "Weird" from a Shaun Everett. As she murmured the messages aloud, the events played out in her mind.

"Good morning Alice, I hope you are enjoying your license. I am enclosing the 'Project Amalgam' update as you requested." The words elicit a furrowed brow from Rebecca. She lifts the chair off the floor with a scrape and sits down at the desk, leaning in to better view the screen. "Despite our efforts to control the mutations, the subject continues to grow new protrusions. The antivirus sample only seems to reduce the effects temporarily." Rebecca's gaze narrows at this revelation.

"In good news, attempts at socialization and pattern recognition have shown evolution, however, he continues to exhibit highly aggressive, seemingly random behaviors." There is a rhythm to Rebecca's recital, almost as if confirming secrets she already knows.

We glimpse the machine behind her, methodically beating an antivirus much faster than before, hastening the procedure. "Changes in diet have been shown to be counterproductive in the subject's behavior." Rebecca's tongue halts on the next words, her composure wavering.

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"It continues to exhibit a high propensity for living...human...meat." She appears stunned, eyes blinking rapidly as the information sinks in. The sound of the machine beginning to freeze the antivirus sample startles Rebecca from her stupor. She checks the next email titled simply "Weird," with trepidation. "How are you, Alice? I thought I'd give you the latest news because I know how you like to gossip."

Rebecca's voice takes on a lighter tone as she embodies the email's author. We can see through Shaun Everett's eyes as he narrates. "Marcus visited us in the lab today. The odd bit is that he asked us to leave him alone, and before we knew it he was gone." Shaun's gaze follows the imposing figure of James Marcus across the lab. "The supposed tension with Spencer has driven him to act strange. Laura, who dared to take a peek through the window, said she saw him standing in front of the 'amalgam' capsule almost in a nostalgic way..." Shaun's lips twist in amusement. "Amazing how it sounds like she caught him showing human emotions."

Indeed, Marcus stands solitary before the capsule, fiddling with his wedding band, oblivious to Laura's wide-eyed stare through the windowed door. The flashback ends as quickly as it began. We return to Rebecca, her faced drained of its previous mirth. "Anyway, I'll keep you posted if anything interesting happens. Get well soon." The machine gives an affirmative beep.

Rebecca stands, striding with purpose toward a capsule emitting steam. She removes the antivirus and places it carefully into her medical kit. With a decisive swipe of her keycard, the unseen lab door grants Rebecca access. She exits swiftly, the computer screen left aglow behind her, one word on the last sent email visible between the streaks of blood: "hel".

Billy stirred slowly on the cold metal exam table, struggling to regain consciousness. The fluorescent lights of the veterinary clinic seemed unnaturally bright, assaulting his senses. He tried blinking, but his eyelids resisted, too heavy to lift. His body felt leaden, his mind fogged.

A sudden blood-curdling scream pierced the air. Billy's eyes shot open despite the heaviness, his heartbeat quickening. Where had that horrifying sound come from? The place after hours should have been still, quiet. But that scream - so visceral, so close - told otherwise. It spoke of something primal, something inhuman, something dangerous... lurking.

The harsh lights flickered in the sterile corridor, casting an sickly pallor over the scuffed tile floor. Rebecca's throat burned as she gulped down the last drops from the plastic water bottle, a small burp escaping her lips. She crumpled the empty container and tossed it towards the vending machine with a flick of her wrist.

Her finger jabbed the selection buttons, and a metallic clunk signaled the descent of her meager provisions - a sad can of soda, a bag of stale chips, and a forlorn chocolate bar. Sliding the snacks into the cargo pockets of her tactical pants, Rebecca ripped into the candy with her teeth, the rich sweetness a momentary reprieve from the bitter reality surrounding her.

A quick glance at the her watch sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. Shit, she was running out of time. Shoving the remaining chocolate into her mouth, she snatched up the shotgun leaning against the vending machine. The barrel's solid weight was reassuring in her grip as she strode down the corridor, boots echoing against the tile.

"Veterinary" a faded sign proclaimed, an arrow pointing onwards. Rebecca swallowed hard, the sticky chocolate clinging to her teeth, and followed the marker deeper into the facility's bowels. Her finger caressed the shotgun's trigger, preparing for whatever fresh hell awaited around the next corner.