“Something’s wrong,” he said, frowning at the readout on the screen. “This can’t be right.”
He turned to look at one of his assistants. She swayed, looking pale, and made no move to look at the screens.
He stood and turned towards her, reaching out a hand. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Oh god,” she moaned, falling to her knees. She started retching, clutching at her stomach before vomiting blood, a bright stream of disturbingly red fluid.
He turned to the large window. The test lab was something of a glass box, with a few monitors inside for the two doctors and three assistants to refer to, but most of the equipment outside being monitored by colleagues. One of them stood there, staring.
“Something’s gone wrong,” he shouted. “We need to shut the experiment down.”
She waved and seemed to say something, but the commlink between the lab and the external monitoring room malfunctioned and he couldn’t hear anything she said.
“Do you hear me? We need to get out of here!”
There was a thump, and he looked aside to see one of the other assistants pressing himself against the glass, as if trying to make himself as flat as possible. He looked back at the blonde scientist outside, shouted again, but she was looking at something over his shoulder.
He turned. The third assistant was crouched in the corner, his hands over his eyes. The female assistant was still vomiting blood, and his colleague…
His colleague was painting the walls with the assistant’s blood.
“Doctor,” the assistant beside him whispered. “What’s going on?”
He swallowed down his rising bile and tried to keep his voice calm.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But we have to get out of here. Break the glass.”
© Kari Fay