"No… you can’t be serious!”
She searched his face for the punchline. For the smirk. For anything.
There was nothing.
“I’m not joking, Ash," Schafer said quietly.
“You have to be!” She surged forward, fists clutching the sides of his coat. “We’ve spent years in this shithole! They can’t do this to us!”
He shook his head.
"They can… and they are…”
Her grip tightened, feeling the fabric between her fingers. She had spent five entire years working her ass off, stacking result after result that far exceeded expectations. And this is how they repay her?
A gentle hand settled on her shoulder.
“It's going to be ok.”
She shoved him off, “Easy for you to say! You get to walk while leaving the rest of us trash behind? Is this what you meant earlier!? You’re so bored that you throw us under the bus!?
“What are you-?”
“I was wrong about you,” she snapped, fury sharpening her words. “You’re just another conniving, lying piece of shit!”
Schafer grabbed her arm. “Calm down.”
She yanked against him, but Schafer’s grip was firm.
“Let go!” she screeched.
“Can you listen for one damn second? You’re going to be fine! We’re going to be fine!”
“Fuck off!”
She tore free and bolted.
“Ashley, wait!”
His voice dissolved into white noise as she ran.
Fuck you and fuck this company.
Doors slammed open. Faces blurred. Voices reached for her and missed.
“Hello-”
“Hi Miss—"
“Hey you—"
She didn’t slow down.
Five years.
Five whole years she had given this company. Result after result. Breakthrough after breakthrough.
And what did it get her?
No promotion. No raise. Not even praise. Just more work piled onto her shoulders like it was expected. Like she was owned.
Was she anything more than a slave to them?
Years of proposals had gone nowhere. Years of ideas were dismissed, shelved, and ignored.
But the moment she brought that to the table… then they listened.
How was her talent not recognized and that bullshit was? How did that make any sense?
It didn’t.
It had to be misogyny. Bigoted suits at the top are patting themselves on the back while stripping her of the one thing she had earned. And now she couldn’t even enjoy the promotion before they pulled the rug out from under her.
A week later, she was canned.
Bullshit.
She hadn’t made a mistake.
…Had she?
No. They couldn’t know. She had been careful. Meticulous. Her tracks were spotless.
It was them.
Schafer and the rest of those bureaucrats.
She would show them. All of them.
She slowed, chest burning, just long enough for a thought to take shape.
Then someone stepped into her path.
Stolen story; please report.
A young man in a blue cap. She didn’t remember his name, only that he looked at her like he did.
“Miss Sinclair? Is… something wrong?”
Ashley straightened, her expression snapping into place.
“Everything’s fine. Say, are you free right now?”
That put some light in his orange eyes.
“I am. What do you need?”
“Just follow me. I’ll explain when we get there.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
She almost laughed. What an idiot, completely unaware that he was totally fucked just like her. After the news broke, he’d be groveling at her feet, thanking her for dragging him into something that mattered. For giving him a role, however small.
Their destination wasn’t far. A short walk, a few corridors, a handful of secure doors.
Fortunately, she had access to every single one.
“Miss Sinclair…”
The boy slowed as she began punching in the final code, “I don’t want to trouble you, but… are we allowed into the volatile material bay?”
Ashley clicked her tongue, eyes never leaving the keypad. The utter gall to even poise such words towards her.
“Are you questioning me right now?” she asked flatly.
She turned, tapping the metal pin on her chest, “Read it.”
He swallowed, “Assistant… department head.”
“That’s right,” she said. “Which means you do what I say when I say it.”
“You were only recently pro-”
She hissed, cutting him off, “Another word out of your fucking mouth, and I’ll make your life hell.”
He flinched back as if she’d struck him. His eyes widened as he tentatively glanced back before slowly nodding his head. Good, that was a look that suited him.
Satisfied, Ashley finished the sequence, and the final door slid open.
The bay beyond was vast and dim, with containers arranged with precision. Some sat in stacks, while others lied on shelves waiting for the day they were to be used. Hazard symbols littered every surface along with multiple signs of warning.
But her attention went straight to the center.
The black unit.
Bigger than the rest. Too big.
A cube that came up to her face, spanning far more than her width. Each surface was a slick black material that glinted in the dim light. It was almost perfect, if not for the small panel that was open to the air.
She sauntered forward and lifted a finger, pointing, “See that?”
He followed her finger, unease bleeding into his voice, “Is that… a C56 biocontainment unit?” Then he squinted. “Why is it so large?”
An apt description, but Ashley already knew that so he was just spewing redundant crap. No duh. Was it really necessary to ask that out loud? How did they ever hire this idiot? Then again the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Idiots in charge, idiots below her. Incompetence everywhere.
She wasn’t gonna let this rile her up. Stay calm. Collected.
Ashley stifled an insult and shrugged, “Dunno. Just houses a lot of rats we have to move.”
“The manual never mentioned anything like this…”
“Because it's new. New protocol. All we have to do is open it and move the rats.”
“How?”
“They’re… like on little carts, so it's more convenient.”
“Then why is it stored here?”
“Storage fucked up.”
“But they never—"
So he really wanted to piss her off. Did all this kid do was ask questions? It was annoying, really annoying.
“They did today,” Ashley snapped. “So are you helping or not?”
He stared at the unit. At her. Then back.
Those stupid, massive orange eyes flickered with doubt.
Internally Ashley swore that if the next words that left his mouth weren't in compliance, he’d regret it.
“…I’ll help,” he said at last.
Her lips curled into a grin. “Good. I’m counting on you~”
As they approached, the bay grew unnaturally quiet.
No hum. No vibration. No circulation.
The sounds she had heard earlier must’ve been a faulty machine correcting itself. That’s all. Whatever was inside had been dormant. Sleeping.
She just had to wake up.
Probably some oversized herbivore. Deer, maybe. Once it was free, she could move on to the second stage of her plan—
“It really is a C56," the boy murmured, “The controls are the same…”
He reached out and pressed a green button.
Lights ignited across the unit’s surface, flaring in harsh geometric patterns.
He stepped back, “It’s… not supposed to do that.”
Ashley wasn’t watching. She was lazily scanning the room.
“No,” she said. “It is.”
A panel sheared itself from the sleek black surface with a soft, mechanical thunk.
It opened ever so slightly, just enough.
Cold air spilled out.
Thick. Rank.
The boy leaned closer, "What... the—"
“Eh?”
Something erupted from the opening. Too fast to see.
Ashley staggered as something splattered across her cheek and soaked into her clothes. She reached up reflexively, irritation flaring.
Then she saw the slick red liquid coating her fingers.
“Eh?” she said again.
Her gaze dropped.
There was a blue cap on the floor.
No.
It sat atop a clump of black hair.
Hair still attached to a slab of meat.
Flesh and white fragments scattered in a widening pool of red.
And beside it, a singular deflated sac.
Orange at its center.
A center that seemed to stare back.
The smell hit her next. One much worse than the one Matthew exuded.
Shit and vomit, mixed with other scents she couldn’t identify.
It was a horrible, vile stench that assaulted her nostrils. It made her stomach convulse and her legs went weak.
Then came the sound.
That noise that she had tried to forget.
It was combined with a symphony of ripping and tearing.
A sound she’d heard once, years ago, when a pit bull tore into a kitten.
Chewing, gnawing, crunching, and grinding.
It was too much.
All of it was too much.
And so she turned toward the source.
