<center><h1 style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 50px;">A Night at the Lab </h1> </center><center> <h3 style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 25px; color: lime;"> Content Warning: Blood and gore may be depicted in some parts of the story. </h3> </center>
<center><h2 style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 30px;">[[Start]] </h2></center>The floor creaks as you go to explore, unsure of yourself, believing that you made the wrong decision.
Sweat breaks out on your forehead, but you hastily wipe it off. You're a professor, not a wimp, you think to yourself.
But even professors get scared. We all do.
You circle around the lab, and go out the door. The dark corridor makes you feel even more uneasy. You go up and down, shaking off the throbbing fear, and find nothing. You even check all the rooms, opening the doors slowly and with much hesitation.
It's like a nightmare.
But nothing's there, right?
[[Go back to work - it's nothing after all, right?]]
[[Try to sneak out the back door.]] You know that there is a back door located at the back of the laboratory, so you creep up to it. You can't take any chances, especially since you didn't tell anyone you'd be here.
<img src="https://p0.pikrepo.com/preview/908/801/gold-door-knob.jpg" height="500px" />
But... it's jammed? What? How? WHY? Panic quickly finds shelter in your body and spreads its bad influence to your heart, sweat glands, and hands. Trembling hands. Pounding heart. Sweaty... everything.
[[Try to go out the front door instead.]]
[[Go back to work - it's nothing after all, right?]]So, you're scared, huh? Ok, that's fine, I guess. You walk to a nearby table, where you crouch down and hide underneath it. Your heart thumps violently in your chest, as if it's punching you for making a stupid mistake.
You hear footsteps approach. They seem loud, hesitant at first. But then they gradually quicken their pace and thump like the heart in your chest.
What will you do? The feet are right next to the table at this point and you're scared to even move a muscle.
[[Don't make a sound, just stay there.]]
[[Try to attack.]]Although your brain told you to go back to work, your heart doesn't quite agree. It thumps against your ribs violently, as if wanting to escape too. You take a deep and shaky breath before taking the first step towards the frog you were once dissecting.
Are you hallucinating, or is that someone hunched over it?
You can't make out their figure, for they are fully clothed. Something about this person makes you feel troubled. You can't make out their face either.
Suddenly, they turn around and lunge at you suddenly. You get a glimpse of its sharp teeth and gnarled fingers before it bites your carotid artery. Whoops. Looks like you're dead.You sneak to the front of the laboratory and go out to the hall. Seems empty. So, you continue to tip toe your way to the front of the building, quiet as if a single sound could kill you.
Maybe it could.
<img src="https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2016/08/11/22/12/door-1587023_960_720.jpg" height="400px" />
You almost let out a sigh of relief as you reach the front door, but you clamp you hand down on your own mouth, careful not to let that... possible intruder know where you are. You slowly take your other hand and twist the doorknob. You try to pull it, but... what?! This one is jammed, too?!
[[Try to look for something to unjam the door.]]
[[Go back to work - it's nothing after all, right?]] You search for a pin, screwdriver, something, //anything// to unjam the door. Instead, you see someone sneaking around in the distance, near the lab room. They seem to be searching for something, or someone. They are fully clothed, with what seems to be some sort of cloak. But it's too dark to see clearly... You hope that they don't see you, and it seems like they don't. Yet.
[[Confront the person.]]
[[Try to find a weapon.]]
[[Just HIDE!!!]]You sneak up to the mysterious person hesitantly. You're careful not to make any noise because you are still unsure.
//Is this the right choice?//
Maybe not. But you do it anyway.
"H-hello? Excuse me, but who are you and why are you here?"
You watch as the figure turns and you soon realize that it isn't human. Paralyzed from fear, all you can do is take a small step back. Those eyes haunt you, pierce your heart. Mustard yellow. Filled with pure evil. You can tell it won't have any mercy. As it smiles wickedly, you can see its teeth, large knives framing its mouth. The smiled creases its already wrinkled face. Your gaze drops down to its hands. Gnarled fingers like the branches of a tree.
//Run?//
It's too late. Your poor decision-making skills send you further down the well. And it rushes towards you, reaching and grabbing you by the arms. You're face to face and you start squirming in its incredibly strong grip. Your skin twists underneath its knobbly fingers and you feel so weak. Its putrid breath is the last thing you smell. Its mustard, vile eyes the last thing you see. Its sharp teeth on your neck... the final thing you //feel//. Your scream pierces through the night, but no one is there to hear it.//Hey this is just in case. Just in case. Just in case this person decides to grab me, or attack me, or SOMETHING. I need to protect myself.//
A flurry of thoughts swirl through your mind as you scramble quietly, away from the person's line of vision, to find something. Your crazed mind takes you to a nearby storage room and you rummage through the various boxes on the shelves.
//What do I do? What DO I DO? WHAT DO I TAKE???//
You stop yourself. Tell yourself to calm down. As you take a few shaky breaths, you look down at your uncontrollable, trembling hands and legs.
//Calm down.//
A box of scalpels catches your eye. //Yes!// You shove your hand in hastily, but manage to cut your hand on one of the sharp tips. You recoil and hold your hand as you take it out of the box. //Sheesh, did one of the covers fall off?// The blood trickles down your palm and runs like rivers... some along the creases and some just flood down to your wrist. Your dazed mind follows the rivers, but soon realizes that you need to get a scalpel. You carefully slip your hand back in and look for a nice scalpel. //Damn, how did so many break?// You take one that isn't broken and turn around, ready to leave the room.
[[Confront the intruder.]]
[[Find a place to hide.]]You look around, desperate to find a good hiding spot. Your forehead is adorned with beads of sweat.
So you dash around, your mind infested with cluttered objects, the product of fear and anxiety. There's a room at the end of a short dark hallway. You rush towards it, almost as quietly as a little mouse scurrying around. You open the door (which creaks slightly) and walk in, shutting it behind you. It is a tiny storage room and you manage to push past a few boxes, making a little space for you to crouch. Then, you place the boxes back in front of you, a little hiding place for the time being.
<img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/1258/851672959_7773420706_b.jpg" height="400px" />
You hear the floor creak beyond the [[door]].You walk out of the room, scalpel in your trembling hand, and attempt to find this intruder.
//Hopefully, I won't have to use this.//
Your peripheral vision catches the cloaked figure. You turn and remove the cover of the scalpel, shoving it into your pocket. You inch your way towards this person. Slowly. Carefully.
"Hey. What are you doing here and who are you?" You are standing behind the person.
The person says nothing and instead turns around. You are taken aback. The person... is not human. It stares at you with a menacing scowl, a mouth full of long, sharp teeth. Mustard yellow eyes stare deep into your soul and wrinkled skin blankets the evil horrors within it. Your breath catches in your throat, as if it were afraid to come out. The monster's gnarled fingers reach out and grab you, its face so close to your own that you smell its putrid breath. It almost makes you [[faint]].You walk out of the room in a frenzied state and search for a place to hide. You then realize that the storage room was a perfect hiding place. Grumbling to yourself, you rush back into the storage room, push back a few boxes and enter the tiny opening. You then push the boxes back in front of you and crouch, scalpel still in [[hand]].You take a deep breath and decide not to move a muscle. //Please just pass by. PLEASE.//
The feet linger before deciding to move on. You hear the footsteps thumping away, gradually getting softer in sound. Finally, you hear nothing.
[[Try to find a weapon.]]
[[Try to sneak out the back door.]] You burst out from under the table and sweep the person's legs so that they crash on to the floor. You stagger to your feet, watching as the person rises.
But it isn't a person. //What is it?//
You totally freeze at its startling features. Wrinkled face, almost as if its skin was melting off. Mustard yellow eyes with the glint of evil. Its scowl reveals its long, sharp teeth. Gnarled fingers reach out to push you against the wall.
[[Try to push it away and fight back.]]
[[Run away.]]You hit its hands away and run. Run for your dear life.
"HELP!" You are yelling desperately for a response. But they just echo back at you, as if someone was mocking you. You hear the footsteps of that... monster, thumping against the linoleum floor like sacks of dead bodies.
//I can't think. What do I do?//
[[Try to go out the window.]](set: $name to (prompt: "A university name, please:", "name"))
You're working late at night in the lab of (print: $name) University. You have no idea what time it is, just that it's //very// late. So very late. Maybe midnight? Past that? You're dissecting a frog, trying to find the cause of death. It's almost like an [[autopsy]].
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/83/Rosenhof-green-frog-dissection.jpg" height="500px" />You shove at it and repeatedly yell, "What are you doing here?" Your desperate attempt to uncover some answers. All it does is scowl at you, foul breath brushing your face.
It punches you in the stomach, sending you flying into the nearby wall. You feel a sharp pain, like a needle, in the back of your head. You briefly grab your head before the pain of your stomach soon overrides it. Clutching your stomach, you slide to the floor.
From the monster's lips, you hear a gruff, raspy voice. "Pesky humans," you hear it say. Its steps thunder close to you, but all you can do is writhe in pain. "All you do is interrupt. What a shame." A sudden, intense pain shoots up your neck before everything turns pitch black. You're working late at night in the lab of (print: $name) University. You have no idea what time it is, just that it's //very// late. So very late. Maybe midnight? Past that? You're dissecting a frog, trying to find the cause of death. It's almost like an autopsy.
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/83/Rosenhof-green-frog-dissection.jpg" height="400px" />
You think back to all the dead frogs you found near the pond. The pond near the university. It's not a pleasant thought. Their guts hanging out like that? Pouring out like a viscous, horrifying mixture of deathly substances. Like a sick drink. Or stew. Their eyes were gouged out, leaving holes that resembled tiny [[wells]]. You're working late at night in the lab of (print: $name) University. You have no idea what time it is, just that it's //very// late. So very late. Maybe midnight? Past that? You're dissecting a frog, trying to find the cause of death. It's almost like an autopsy.
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/83/Rosenhof-green-frog-dissection.jpg" height="300px" />
You think back to all the dead frogs you found near the pond. The pond near the university. It's not a pleasant thought. Their guts hanging out like that? Pouring out like a viscous, horrifying mixture of deathly substances. Like a sick drink. Or stew. Their eyes were gouged out, leaving holes that resembled tiny wells.
You've fallen into those wells, and you can't climb out now. As you hunch over with your scalpel, you know you've fallen too far and will soon be screaming helplessly up from those wells. Hoping someone can save you. But the only voice you will hear is your own, echoing off the stone, or maybe fleshy, walls. You shake off the thoughts and instead ponder the cause of death. You think it might be some strange disease, which is what drives you as you prod through what's left of one of the frogs you found. But something, a feeling in the back of your mind, something that churns your stomach relentlessly, makes you believe otherwise.
<img src="https://pngimg.com/uploads/brain/brain_PNG59.png" height="500px" />
You shake off that thought and continue to work. But you still feel [[uneasy]].Softly at first, a unmistakable noise sounds out. Footsteps. But... no one's supposed to be here???
<img src="https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/260000/nahled/snow-footsteps.jpg" height="300px" />
[[Look for what's making the sound.]]
[[Try to sneak out the back door.]]
[[Hide]]Glass. Window. You look at a nearby window and decide that's your best option. You quickly unlatch the window and slide it up hastily.
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/17/Window_with_recent_and_old_panes.jpg" height="500px" />
The thudding steps behind you cause you to breathe harder and panic more. You quickly climb out the window, but the monster latches onto your arm as your feet hit the grass. You tug back as hard as you can, and since the monster is still unsteady from the chase, it loses its grip. You smash the window pane onto its head and run [[away]]. Then, the door opens and your breath [[hitches]].Then, the door opens and your breath hitches.
The floor creaks below the person's [[feet]].Then, the door opens and your breath hitches.
The floor creaks below the person's feet.
And you feel your heart [[thumping]].Then, the door opens and your breath hitches.
The floor creaks below the person's feet.
And you feel your heart thumping.
Thumping
<center>thumping</center>
<p style="text-align: right"> [[t h u m p i n g]]. </p>And it happened so fast, you didn't get the details. What. Who. Why. How.
End.The monster [[hisses]]. The monster hisses.
Is it prepared to kill you? You have no idea. The glint of the scalpel catches your [[eye]].The monster hisses.
Is it prepared to kill you? You have no idea. The glint of the scalpel catches your eye.
And you, without hesitation, thrust the scalpel into its neck, hoping that it has a carotid artery and you hit [[it]].The monster hisses.
Is it prepared to kill you? You have no idea. The glint of the scalpel catches your eye.
And you, without hesitation, thrust the scalpel into its neck, hoping that it has a carotid artery and you hit it.
The monster's grip loosens. You almost sigh in relief as you manage to shake your arm away. You stagger backwards as you watch the monster writhe in pain. It clutches its neck as black blood gushes out like a waterfall. Its fingers soon get covered with the viscous substance.
As it lifts its eyes to meet yours, you feel something in your stomach. Something drops. Like an anvil. The monster hits the ground, sucking its last breath through its teeth and looking at you with the same evil eyes as before. It should be over. But something tells you it [[isn't]].Your flustered state of mind causes words to come out unsteadily, like a scratchy record. A police officer offers you a cup of water and you take it, grabbing it with your shaky fingers and mumbling a raspy "thanks."
<img src="https://c1.peakpx.com/wallpaper/921/867/652/clear-plastic-cup-on-gray-surface-wallpaper-preview.jpg" height="400px" />
The water splashes around, a mini ocean contained in a clear plastic cup. You're convinced that you'll drown [[someday]]. Your flustered state of mind causes words to come out unsteadily, like a scratchy record. A police officer offers you a cup of water and you take it, grabbing it with your shaky fingers and mumbling a raspy "thanks."
<img src="https://c1.peakpx.com/wallpaper/921/867/652/clear-plastic-cup-on-gray-surface-wallpaper-preview.jpg" height="400px" />
The water splashes around, a mini ocean contained in a clear plastic cup. You're convinced that you'll drown someday.
Drown
drown
<pre>
d
r
o
w
[[n]] </pre>You wake up the next morning with a ghastly sight. Gutted frogs everywhere. On your sheets. Your clothes. Your hands. And all around your neck, like a large necklace, is all the organs. Blood stains your skin and you feel smothered by the weight of the bodies. Intestines frame your neck and the other organs decorate the lanyard. Hearts, lungs, stomachs. Eyes are rotated so that the pupils face your head. Watching you. The eyes of the victims. The souls of the tortured.All you can hear is your own breathing. Heavy, like your lungs had just been squeezed and you're struggling to fill them up. A limp balloon in your chest. You press your hand against your mouth, worried that the intruder might [[hear]]. You hear the door open slightly, a creak in the midst of silence. You clutch the scalpel tightly. Boxes crash down around you, revealing a... monster. That's all you can call it. Its features practically //scream// monster. Wrinkled, sagging face like melted skin. Mustard yellow eyes. Gnarled fingers. Long, sharp, shiny teeth. Practically pouring out of its mouth, which was forming a scowl. You scramble to your feet, but it grabs you by the arm and pulls you towards it. Chaos fills your mind as its face is in front of yours. Its putrid breath almost makes you [[faint]].You don't stop. You don't look back. Until you reach the police [[station]].They don't believe you. You tell them and you tell them, but they conclude it "must've been a mask or something." "Maybe you imagined it," one of the officers suggests as he hands you a cup of water. You are frustrated, but all you can do is let out a sigh as they send a couple of officers to the [[lab]]."We couldn't find anyone," an officer says as she comes back with her partner.
"Nothing?" You bite your lip in anguish and grip your empty plastic cup tightly, the only thing you can trust right now.
"Nothing. Sorry." An officer shrugs. You don't bother to speak anymore. You glance at the clock on the wall and see that it's 2:45 AM.
"Would you mind sitting with a sketch artist?"
"Sure." //Not like you would believe me anyway.//
Later that morning, an officer drives you home. The ride is quiet and ominous. "Thank you," you say as you shut the door of the police car and walk towards the front steps of your [[house]]. You wake up the next morning with a ghastly sight. Gutted frogs everywhere. On your sheets. Your clothes. Your hands. And all around your neck, like a large necklace, is all the organs. Blood stains your skin and you feel smothered by the weight of the bodies. Intestines frame your neck and the other organs decorate the lanyard. Hearts, lungs, stomachs. Eyes are rotated so that the pupils face your head. Watching you. The eyes of the victims. The souls of the tortured.