1:16 AM

When she awoke, the gas had cleared out — either dissipating or being whisked away by whatever ventilation system the laboratory used. She discovered herself propped up against the wall of a strange hallway — it went down for a while and then jutted right. Thick, metal doors were lined around every forty feet. A chipped, red stripe was painted against the wall. Each door carried tiny white words upon them, but they were difficult for the girl to make out. An awful scent filled the hall. The fluorescent lights flickered on every few seconds until flashing off for several minutes. One of the light’s covers hung near the ground. A dark, bloody handprint grasped the translucent covering, smudging itself down and away.

Those screams. The handprint made her think back to the muffled screaming she had heard when she awoke. That deafening alarm tried to warn these people. Warn them of what? What did Charlie say? It wasn’t safe. She staggered upward and probed the environment. The eerie lighting made it difficult to examine the area. Oh no.

Throughout the hallway were the corpses of scientists. The fresh scent of newly-rotted flesh crept around her. It was disgusting. She pulled her cloth dress over her nose to try and block the smell, but it didn’t work. There were at least six, each one varying in condition. One man’s head dripped blood from the forehead, but the rest of his body remained intact. The others were different. They looked like torn dolls that a feral dog had played with. Bloodied limbs lay near the bodies they were ripped from. The girl met the eyes of one of the men. They were empty. Dead. Hollow. He was crying out in pain — his mouth still open. The floor around him was stroked in a rich, sulking red. His face and exposed limbs were odd, though. They blistered horribly, almost as though he had been burned.

Why don’t I care? The thought petrified her. She knew that had she woken up to this scene, she would have broken down in terror, frozen in incomprehension; but now, she felt nothing. It was as though her mind had numbed itself to its environment. The idea that her mind was capable of that worried her. She took a deep breath again.

“Autumn?” a voice muttered. It was shallow — it was clearly a breathless husk of what it had once been. “What… what are you doing here?” The voice struggled to pronounce each word. The girl searched for the voice’s location.

It was one of the men. She didn’t notice him because — to her — he seemed to be dead. His right arm was missing completely, the stump that remained dripping blood onto the tiled floor. The man lay on the floor, dragging himself towards her with his other arm. His eyes were hardly visible, covered by hideous blisters. From the bumps, she noticed that a seething, red liquid poured from them. It was the same liquid that bled from her arm during the hallucination. It was the same serum she had found in the cabinet.

“Autumn, hello?” the voice mumbled again. The girl finally recognized the words the man spoke. Autumn? The girl from the log? The- She wavered. No. No. The girl hesitantly pointed at herself in an attempt to verify what she had already realized. The man nodded.

I’m Autumn. I was experimented on. That- what. She contemplated the idea earlier but ignored it. The log clearly stated that the girl had died. At least, I thought it did. I mean. I guess it didn’t I suppose I-

Her thoughts were jumbled. That name it’s… it doesn’t sound right. That… that can’t be my name. No. It is unmistakable. You are Autumn. You have to be. It makes sense why the log never finished — you escaped. Escaped? Or saved? By what? She didn’t know. Her thoughts bounced hurriedly. Autumn…

“Autumn, what are you doing here?” the voice asked forcefully. Each word sounded painful and hoarse. He crawled a little more and looked into her eyes. As he stared, his expression changed. A solemn face befell him. Autumn took a knee beside him.

“You don’t know me,” he said. “You don’t remember me, do you? I can see it. On your face.” Autumn could see him clearer now. His brown, ruffled hair was stained by his own blood. A once-white lab coat was ripped at and had several claw markings, revealing cuts and bruises beneath. A name tag was around his neck. Dr. Goldstein. The name was unfamiliar to her.

“No,” Autumn replied. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.” The man turned away from her. He began to laugh. After a second, though, he triggered a cough. It was wet and coarse. Red serum splatted onto the floor. He stopped a moment later.

“It’s okay,” he said, taking in a breath. “It’s not your fault. What they did to you. I can see it. In your eyes. You have it’s eyes.” Autumn faltered back, her eyes narrowing.

“What?” she replied. Goldstein shook his head.

“Never mind. It’s not—” he struggled for a moment, “—important. You have to leave. You have to—” he paused again, “—get out of here. It’s not safe. What it did to me. It’ll do to you.” Autumn pushed herself away from the bleeding man. He threw out his hand to stop her.

“Stop. I need you. To listen.” Every few words he inhaled an agonizing breath. “The doors. The main doors. They’re shut down completely. Hill got these— these metal doors. It locks down during an emergency.” His mind drifted. “He said it was to keep us safe. It was a lie. It was to keep it in.” He screamed in a sudden wave of pain, fondling his chest with his ripped arm. He buried his face into the floor. The shout echoed through the hallway, causing her to shiver. What is it? Did it hear that?

“What are you talking about? What is it?” Autumn asked. Her voice quivered. She processed the man’s injuries. Until now, she hadn’t thought much about what had done to him. The ripped arm. The scratches. The blood. No. Her mind returned to the eyes watching her in the hallucination. What if that was real? Was it watching me? It was big. Was it capable of this? The river was back. It was a slow drip. She inhaled. Goldstein gathered his strength and began.

“We called it Sunset. The details aren’t important. But it’s big—” his eyes widened. It was as though he was staring into the eyes of the darkest evil. His breaths quickened. “I can’t. I can’t even describe it. I never saw it. But— you’ll know it when you see it. But if you do. It’s too late. It’ll kill you. It’s a predator. A hunter. Hiding is worthless. Mostly. I don’t know. Maybe you can make it. We didn’t try. Someone did. I heard him scream. I think he’s dead.” The man looked down, his eyes glistened in reflection.

“I never even worked on it.” He ignored Autumn as he spoke. These were his last moments. He knew it. I know it. This is wrong. “Not directly. I just worked on— the serum.” He gazed down at his arm. He took a hard breath.

“Look,” the man continued. “I can’t— I can’t make it. You can. Your dad. We both worked here.” The man stopped for a moment. He had a look of contemplation plastered upon his face. He sighed.

“He’s gone. That’s him.” He pointed at the bloodied man. He was the only one who hadn’t lost limbs. Blood poured from his head. Dad? She watched him for a moment — the corpse. It sat there. Motionless. She felt nothing. She had no attachment to him. The man wasn’t even recognizable to her. His face was unfamiliar. She hoped a spark of life would catalyze her memories’ return, but there was nothing. The river, however, bellowed. Whatever they had done to her. No — whatever Dr. Young had done to her — it had robbed her of her humanity. As she stared at the dead man, her own father, she felt nothing. A husk controlled by an apathetic parasite. She crouched against the wall and placed her head into her hands. I feel nothing. She took a deep breath. No. You’re losing yourself. You will heal. You need to leave. That’s not your dad. Not anymore. The man watched her.

“I see,” he began. It’s okay. It’s for the better. Really. You can just focus on— on getting out. That’s what’s important anyway. Escaping. As I said. The main exits are— completely shut off. Hill made sure they were— invincible. But there’s— a way out. An emergency exit. On the second floor. It’ll take you down— down the back of the building. I think it stays— open anyways. You can get out. The stairs. Hill was very sly. Each staircase only goes— to the floor below. We had designated times to— use the elevator. So we couldn’t— see anything other than our area. You’ll— have to find the— the stairs on the third. To get out.

“If— when you do. Find a police station. There should be one. Close in town. I know them well. They will help you. There’s a man. Henry. He’s an officer. He can help. He will protect you. He’s probably outside now. I don’t think he can get in. The doors— they’re impassible. Knowing him, though, he’ll find another— another way inside. But. You’re not there yet. That’s for later. So don’t— don’t worry about that right now.

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“You’re inside. And you have it inside you. The serum. I don’t know how. Or why. Maybe they— wanted to see other— effects or something. I’m sorry they— they did that to you. I guess— memory loss is a— a side effect of some sort. But you have it. They will use you. They want you. You can’t trust anyone— not in here. The serum. It calls it. It wants it. To survive. It needs it. The people. I don’t know who’s left. Maybe I’m being paranoid. They may be dead. No. They’re dead. I think. I’m not sure. I thought— I heard talking. Down. On the third floor. Maybe that thing can talk. I was never near it enough to know what it could do. Sorry. I’m—”

Autumn knew what was happening. She pitied the man. The thoughts going through one’s head before they were about to die. She knew they were beyond her understanding. She was simply grateful he was helping. See. You’re not a husk. You care for him. You’re still in there, Autumn. She liked the name Autumn. At first, it didn’t feel right. But now, it was growing on her.

“—losing it. Rambling. Just. Be wary— of who you trust. In here. It’s bad. Bad people. I’m one of them. But. I see that. Now. We shouldn’t have done it.” He was muttering to himself now. “We shouldn’t have done it.” Done what? She shuddered. “Oh— I’m fading. Just. Go. Second floor. Find exit. If you see it. Hide. Or run. It won’t— be careful. Don’t trust anyone.” His final words trailed off. The man shrunk to the ground. His hollow eyes stared into hers. Fear.

She had never seen death before — at least that she knew of. She hadn’t watched as the frigid grasp of death clasped onto another person’s soul, dragging them beneath to their eternal home. It was disturbing. The man seemed at peace with it — well not quite at peace, but it was clear to her that he foresaw death’s arrival before it seized him. It hurt. She didn’t even know him, but it hurt. Whatever this place had done to her, it had done to him worse. “It’s bad. Bad people. I’m one of them. But. I see that. Now.” What did he mean by that? It didn’t matter. Not now. Whatever “it” he helped create had killed him. She didn’t know how to feel. The situation around her was bleak. Hopeless. Right then, she was surrounded by death, yet instilled with an unimaginable hope that she could find freedom. Find life. I have to leave. I will find freedom. The laboratory did something to her. She felt as though it blocked her mind from comprehending her environment. But that was okay for now.

“Thank you,” Autumn whispered, rising to her feet. She shut her eyes for a moment. There was only the gentle whir of wind and rain pounding upon the roof of the laboratory. The lime fluid that had seeped from the room now settled into cracks between the tiles. She was alone, surrounded by hollow people who had been born to be torn by their own creation. It was too late for them, but not too late for her. The glint of determination swelled within her eyes.

A bulky door stood before her. The words Project: Sunset Lab #3 were painted upon it. Beneath the words were shadows of other letters left behind — she couldn’t make them out. She closed her eyes once more and grasped the door handle. It was bitter cold. She noticed the door was not completely closed. A little rectangular window peered into the room, but it was too dark to make out anything. With a strong push, the door swung open. Autumn stumbled into the room.

Raging darkness consumed her. Her pupils narrowed, yet she could still see nothing. Lights. Autumn smacked her hand against the wall. Her hand was that of a seal, flopping to try and hit the light switch. A blinding light flowed into the room.

It was a tight room. Black counters outlined the interior, upon them sitting shattered beakers and bloodstained vials. A stubby, metal pillar rose from the ground, which bloomed into a black, circular table. On it was a dead man. His face and body were blistered terribly. His eyes, nose, mouth, and ears poured the red serum onto the table. It blended with the blood, creating a pool of disturbing, viscous crimson. The smell was awful. She approached the corpse. His arms had been removed and a thick red streak was painted across the table. The scene nearly looked like a bear attack.

His mouth was still open like the others — their jaws left ajar as whatever horror they produced slaughtered them one by one. Her dad was the lucky one. Around his neck was a nametag. Dr. Martin. She glanced down at the puddle of red on the table. For a moment, she thought to touch it. That’s inside of you — that concoction of blood and serum. She stared into the liquid. Her reflection looked back at her. She hadn’t noticed her eyes until now. Their color. They were different. It was hard to tell due to the redness of the serum mix, but it was clear. But there was something worse. Something more terrifying to her. In her pupils were two, white dots. She took a deep breath, thinking back to that creature. Watching her. Stalking her. It’s just the lights. They’re reflecting off the puddle and bouncing into your eyes. It’s okay.

She stepped away from the table. On the floor to the table’s right were the man’s arms. Bloodied tissue surrounded them, causing Autumn to nearly vomit. In them, however, was a file. It had been stained in blood. She knelt, daintily retrieving the file from the crimson pool. She cringed as she picked it up. Blood dripped from it, dropping and splattering onto the ground. Inhaling a full breath, she took the file and placed it onto a clean portion of the counter. If I wanna get out, I need to know what I’m facing. I need to know what happened. The river viciously ravaged her mind. I need to know. I will find freedom. She barely grabbed the tip of the file and slowly pulled it open.

Inside of the brown folder was a single piece of paper. Miraculously, it was hardly stained other than the paper’s slight coral tint. The words were clearly legible and mixed with both typed prompts and hand-written responses.

Sunrise Laboratories: Formal Request Paper

Date: 11 - 24

Project Reference: Sunset

Subject: The Sunset Gas

Description: The sunset gas is too volatile and transmittable and I fervently believe that we ought to cancel the production of it immediately. I have come to this conclusion due to the already blistering nature of the liquid Sunset serum’s effect when in contact with human skin. This is especially evident after the accidents that occurred with both Dr. Lyle and Dr. James. By transforming the serum into a gaseous state, it will become easier for incidents like these to occur and could lead to a higher accident rate than we already have. This paired with the abrupt nature in which we were given this project and the encouragement from Section A that we cut corners has made me increasingly worried about what might happen. I understand that the February deadline is quickly approaching and that we’ve already requested an extension for the project, but I cannot further state that the creation of the gas will simply result in more accidents. I ask that you listen to the request and that we find another way to administer the serum to Project: Sunset. Thank you.

Status: DENIED by Dr. Hill

Autumn realized something as she read the document — she didn’t know what year it was. The file gave the month and day, but there was no year. It doesn’t matter right now. Not now. She shook her head. The document appeared to be somewhat dated since the request had already been denied. A whistleblower? He was trying to leave when it happened. He was gonna leak it. That’s why he had the file. She pitied the man, but she was somewhat thankful for him. The file revealed an important detail about the gas. It was volatile. The gas that was in the hallway. That’s what blistered their bodies. Her mind paused for a moment. Why didn’t it affect me the same way? That’s important.

There was very little else in the room. The cabinets brimmed with supplies and viles filled with muted liquids that she didn’t recognize. Shattered glass was scattered across the countertops. Droplets of drying blood were spattered along the black surface. At the end of the counter, a clump of blood was painted onto the wall. His head had been smashed against it.

In the center of the room, melded into the table, was a tall sink. A sudden wave of thirst washed over her. She hadn’t even thought about food or water until then, but as she watched the water slowly drip from the faucet, her throat dried. Autumn winced, staring at the man propped against the faucet. She closed her eyes and pushed him onto the tiled floor. He fell to the ground with a deafening thud. She flinched again. I’m sorry. She wasn’t. Her hand reached out and gripped the faucet handle. The occasional water droplet transformed into a flowing stream. She moved her head beneath the water and drank. Relief surged through her. Unlike the rest of the laboratory, it was pure. It was cold. Time froze. For a single moment — everything was okay.

Autumn contemplated taking the document with her, but the makeshift dress held no pockets to put it in. She sighed and abandoned the paper. The room, despite the corpse that now lay on the floor, made her feel safe. It was irrational, but she didn’t care. Now, though, it was time to leave. The second floor. She didn’t even know what floor she was on now — she guessed the fourth due to what Goldstein had told her. “I thought— I heard talking. Down. On the third floor.” It’s time. She took a deep breath and walked out of the room.

There were more rooms. Most shared a similar name to the other room — Project: Sunset Lab — but the number on each door was different. She wondered how many more people had been killed in those rooms trying to hide from whatever beast was hunting them. A part of her wanted to investigate each room, but she decided not to. There was something in here. Something big. “It’s a predator. A hunter. Hiding is worthless.” If he was right, that means I have to find a way out. Now. The second floor. There wasn’t a staircase nearby her. As she thought, however, a sudden sound rolled through the hall.

It was the ding of an elevator. She hadn’t noticed it until now, but one of the doors was different from the others. It was smooth and metallic, although blood was still smeared upon it. The darkness had concealed the elevator door but now, with the swift sound of a whir, it opened. Light poured into the hall as two silhouettes appeared.