The lab was not strange in and of itself. It was, in fact, quite what you would probably expect. Sterile, tidy, and cold stainless-steel counters. Rows of cabinets containing elements and compounds with complex labels and glassware fill every corner, maintaining a packaged but orderly environment. Tall beakers filled with brightly colored substances giving the room some cheer, which offsets the metal and glass veneer touching everything. The lab should be mostly odorless, but herein lies the first inconsistency in this orderly atmosphere.
With hands flat on a table and a head hung low, a being of some kind emanates a hideous stench, akin to a mixture of sweats. In viewing the being, no one would blame you if you did not at first recognize it as human. The humanness is absent in the way it sways and grunts. The creature's clothes are torn, and its body is stained with a viscous red substance.
It begins to shake its head left to right, then stares straight at one of the cabinets. You can see the eyes now, and they are soft, with bones in the face protuberant. It charges toward the cabinet, knocking over all beakers and tables in the way. Many pieces of glass shatter all at once but the sound is obscured by the heavy tables screeching across the floor. Colored mixtures, including potassium permanganate, are jettisoned from their tubes into the air formlessly before crashing down on the walls, tables, and into smashed cabinets. A few broken jars of glycerin start to make a hissing noise due to a chemical reaction before they began to smoke. Sprinklers and an alarm automatically turn on. When the drops of water land on the chemicals, flames erupt, setting ablaze the walls, and igniting other combustibles, eventually destroying the lab. The beast finds a journal after rummaging violently through a cabinet, and tosses the paper and cabinet into the center of the blaze. It then crashes through a window to an unknown fate.
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"It was carnage, a horrible sight, seeing all those bodies lying on the road. We are waiting to see what our insurance will cover, but this is such a cluster fuck, we will have to let the lawyers duke it out before we know anything for sure," stated Director Le Fanu, the sharp, squat, charismatic head of the chemical research division of Blackwood pharmaceuticals. Her rigid features, professional demeanor, and witty jokes usually kept her staff at ease during a crisis, but this was another story.
"You mean all of them? All of them are just gone, like that? And we can't get any more until when...?" spoke a bewildered Dr. Hyde, who was one of the top researchers in the lab.
"No word yet on when, but we are on hold indefinably until the press and legal teams work all of this out" Director Le Fanu stated mildly.
Mary Hyde is a mid-career, middle aged research chemist working in a field she loves at a job she always wanted. She wears wide black framed glasses that match her well-proportioned square jaw. Her wide, round nose keeps the frames pressed tightly to her face, hiding her dark and heavily bagged eyes. Her frame is obscured in the lab coat she wears daily, but her full bosom and wide round hips can be made out if you look hard enough. Mary has a tendency to be consumed by her endeavors, one of which currently includes working on a preventative immune-hormone treatment to slow or stop various disorders women face. Her work is stressful and underfunded, but the importance of her efforts was worth any risk she could face. This latest development, however, was a serious shit show.
Mary's head spins as she walks out of the director's office, coldly thinking about the rat carcasses strewn across the interstate. Could she borrow or requisition some through another branch of the company? It was extremely aggravating that her research had to just stop like that. She was furious with the animal rescue vigilantes that attempted to hijack the truckload of lab rats. Some yahoo must have thought they were in a fast a furious movie since they tried to drive under the truck. This only resulted in a crushed car and flipped truck. The rest of the punks didn't stick around to see the aftermath: 3 dead humans and a treasure trove of test subjects. "I wish I could find them and test on them!" she thought. The news was teeming with people on both sides of the issue trying to out-argue the other, but none of that mattered to her anymore. Her research had made it to the precipice of live testing but now would have to wait indefinitely. What a fucked-up word, indefinitely. Does it mean tomorrow? Does it just mean never? Mary takes a deep breath and walks into her lab.
Her two post-docs, Ashley and Steven, stood waiting, anxious for any news. Mary relays everything she learned and watches as their faces go from hopeful to somber. "We need to preserve what we have and, god this is so frustrating, try to move on to something else for now."
Steven is young, eager, muscular, and attractive but unkempt doctor who believes in Mary's work. He is honest and genuine, and Mary believes he will go on to do great things on his own. His reaction was proactive "I will make some calls and see if I can find something we can use."
"Thank you that would be helpful," Mary responds.
Ashley's personality is very contrasting to Steven, but she does have some good technical skills that Mary needs in an assistant. Ashley looks as if she was straight out of a sexy doctor Halloween catalogue. She has long, brown hair, and thick glasses that constantly slide to the tip of her nose whenever she speaks. Her lab coat's top buttons seem never able to stay attached, constantly revealing a deep V-neck shirt and her push up bra. The veins in her muscular feet insistently protrude, likely because even her slippers had heels. Mary always had a lingering feeling that Ashley wanted less to help this research, and more to find a way to help herself to the findings. Ashley comments, "Well this feels like a limp dick in the ass, but those wannabe animal superheroes getting themselves slaughtered seems pretty righteous. I'm going to package up and log all remaining treatments we currently have prepared."
"Ok well, finish up and head out early if you can." Mary ordered. Once they had all left, Mary locks the doors, lowers the metal curtains, and gets to work. She knows that if she can't test this on animals, then human tests would be years away. She thinks, "If I can just get some sucker to try this out then I could start getting the data I need." She resigns herself to admitting that the poor sucker had to be her as testing on someone else might mean jail time.
Mary starts by creating a homeopathic tincture of her treatment. She thought that the pseudoscience behind homeopathy was complete bull, but diluting it until there was no trace amounts of the chemicals left seemed like a good place to start as the lowest dosage possible. She works through the evening, documenting her process along the way in her lab journal that had the only complete data on the new treatment. Once she finishes creating the tincture, she packs her belongings, hangs up her coat, and heads home.
Mary's husband Bierce is loyal and understanding, yet has his own vices when it comes to trying to keep balance and order in his and Mary's lives. He is a bit taller and younger than Mary, and has about 30 pounds on her. Mostly it's a mixture of arm and leg muscle, but the love handles have a lot to do with it too. He and his wife have been married for over 10 years, and though they have ups and downs, they have maintained a very comfortable sexual relationship and are incontrovertibly still attracted to each other. He is understanding and trusting of Mary's sporadic schedule, and has given up on trying to get her to let him know when, or if she will be home for dinner.
Tonight Mary arrives home just as Bierce is having a glass of wine and getting ready for bed. "Welcome home," he says as he hears the door open. "I was feeling lazy, so I just warmed up some pasta and alfredo sauce. There's some waiting for you in the microwave."
Mary takes a few deep breaths, glad to be home after today. She replies, "That sounds and smells wonderful, thank you". Both check in with each other and Mary felt free to explain her deviousness and what she was planning.
"Isn't this exactly the reason female researchers end up with such higher risks of cancer?" said a very concerned Bierce.
"Well yes and no, this is different because of the tincture." Mary hands the bottle containing the chemical to Bierce, "It is basically like a nano partial of the treatment brushed by the sterile alcohol in this bottle. I am doing it just to prove that nothing can happen at these nanoscopic levels" she defends.
"You know I respect and trust you, but I'm worried. If you think my worries are overstated, I will concede to you. But please be careful." Bierce concludes. The couple finishes off their nightcap and heads off to their bedtime routines.
