Corrupted Whispers

I took a sip of my black tea, savoring its warmth, when the metallic clink of the steel door caught my attention. Slowly turning my head, I saw a young man striding purposefully toward me.

It was Jackson. "You appear very calm, Leonard," he remarked, his voice carrying a mix of calmness and irritation that echoed around the lounge. His annoyance wasn't directed at me but at the precarious situation we found ourselves in. Our boss, the leader of this clandestine operation experimenting on pure bloods, had abruptly left for a so-called business trip.

I couldn't help but scoff inwardly; it seemed unlikely that our boss would leave us behind just for a routine trip. More likely, we were being set up as scapegoats. Rumors had been swirling about a group targeting experimental sites like ours, attacking with ruthless precision.

Jackson's comment on my calm demeanor made sense, given the circumstances. Yet, I chose to push aside these troubling thoughts and continued sipping my tea, letting its warmth soothe my nerves.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, puzzled by my apparent tranquility. 

But before he could voice his confusion, I spoke up, pulling him from his thoughts. "Why are you so stressed, Jackson? This place is a black site known only to the higher-ups. It would take considerable time and resources for anyone to find us, let alone breach our defenses. And why go through all that trouble just for some pure bloods?"

Jackson mulled over my words and eventually nodded, realizing the logic in my explanation. Anyone attacking this base would gain nothing substantial. By the time they breached our defenses, any valuable documents would be long gone.

Even if their intentions were noble, they'd likely release us to avoid political backlash from Mushroom City or angering powerful multimillionaires with vested interests in the law.

On the slim chance we weren't released, we'd probably face a brief stint in jail before being freed due to lack of evidence.

With newfound confidence, Jackson smiled, thanking me for the reassurance before heading back to the steel door. He completely forgot the reason he came to the lounge like a little child. He scanned his ID and exited the lounge, leaving me to finish my tea with a satisfied smile.

As I rose from my chair, confident in my reasoning and the precautions I'd taken, I headed for the steel door myself. I was certain no agency, or company would dare attack this black site. And if they did, erasing the hard drives containing our experiment data would ensure my freedom.

***

Footsteps echoed down the hallway as Barn spotted Leonard, approaching section D1. With a mischievous grin, he tiptoed closer, hoping to give me a good scare. Everyone knew I was particularly jumpy about the recent rumors.

Barn, ever the prankster, was eager to lighten the mood, especially since Leonard spread rumors about him going crazy after hearing whispers near section D1.

But before Barn could pounce, Leonard spoke calmly, "Having fun, are you, Barn?" He froze, retracting his arms and stepping beside me with a sigh.

"How did you know it was me?" Barn asked, bewildered. He was sure he'd been silent, even if a few squeaks escaped.

I laughed heartily, wiping tears from my eyes. Glancing at Barn's beard, messy brown hair, and round belly, I chuckled again. "I couldn't hear your footsteps, but your breathing gave you away."

Barn was taken aback. He knew he was hefty, but not to the point where his breathing was audible from afar. Before he could retort, I continued teasing him.

"For someone your size, you're surprisingly stealthy. You'd make a great assassin if it weren't for your pig-like breathing. Did you really think I wouldn't notice? You're probably the only person who burns calories sneaking up on someone."

I laughed until my sides ached, glancing at Barn's defeated expression. As I approached the steel door, I swiped my ID card and entered, struggling to maintain a straight face amidst the room full of similarly rotund colleagues.

Inside, I greeted the other scientists and lab data holders as the steel door sealed shut. Break time was over. I moved to the one-sided glass, peering inside.

The view was obscured by fog—a chemical mist designed to keep the beast sedated during experiments. It was one of many safety measures in place, alongside buttons, computers, and monitors displaying the creature's vital signs.

For tasks requiring physical interaction, personnel had to pass through a cleansing chamber—a high-tech silver door equipped with AI components, ensuring containment in case of emergencies. If things went awry, those inside might be left behind.

But such incidents were rare. The beast lacked consciousness, unable to speak or eat without assistance.

The steel door opened again, revealing Mark Oliver, our sleep-deprived head scientist and supervisor. A man driven by money, he was perfect for overseeing this operation, loyal as long as his pockets were lined.

Everyone here had their reasons for joining—some without scholarly credentials—but all motivated by the promise of wealth. Experimenting on pure bloods paid handsomely, after all.

Snapping out of my reverie, I quickly bowed to Mark, prompting the others to follow suit. With seven of us present, today's experiment could proceed.

Following Mark's instructions, I joined another data holder at the back, inputting passwords and pressing buttons to clear the fog via ventilation.

The fog dissipated in mere minutes, revealing the lab in sharp clarity. Leonard, with practiced efficiency, flipped open his clipboard and began to review the details of today's experiment like a seasoned professional.

Before he could utter a single word, a piercing scream shattered the silence, followed by a heavy thud. Instantly recognizing the voice, Leonard's instincts kicked in, and he turned to look at Mark.

But what he saw froze him in place. 

Mark wasn't just scared—he was utterly petrified. Leonard's eyes followed Mark's horrified gaze to the glass dome, where the beast resided. But something was different this time. Over countless observations, Leonard had never felt the creature's gaze so intensely. It was as if it were truly looking back at him for the first time.

The beast squinted its remaining eyebrows and flesh, its black hair hanging down in greasy strands that obscured much of its mutilated face. Its eyes, now a menacing red instead of their usual blue, seemed to pierce through the one-way mirror.

Leonard's mind raced. When had its eyes changed color? And why did it seem to blur at the edges, almost like a dark, shimmering mirage?

A cold sweat broke out on Leonard's forehead as a chilling realization dawned on him: the beast was looking directly at him.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, the creature tilted its head at an unnatural angle, contorting its remaining flesh into a grotesque smile aimed straight at Leonard. 

His blood ran cold as he stood there, paralyzed by the malevolent intelligence behind those crimson eyes.