Level One

Written by:  Ryan Holmes

“Well beyond the normal UN sanctions,” explained a doctor as he walked with a younger man.

Ugh.  “Yeah, sure, how long’s this orientation again?” asked Max Feral, not listening to the lab coat drone on.

“Genetic mutations are unethical enough, but for Iran to engineer creatures for strategic advantage.”

“Gotcha, genetic mutants bad.  Why am I here again?  I aint enlisting, doc!”

Struggling to remain polite, “We need innovative ways of killing the genetically engineered creatures deployed on the battlefield.  Attacking from the air isn’t enough.  Eventually, ground troops must advance the front line.”

They passed into an area of the hall lined with translucent cells.  Darkness made their depth difficult to judge, “What are these?”

The doctor continued, “Inevitably, we turned to people like you.  The Prime Minister believes you possess the necessary creativity to find a solution.”  The doctor’s tone indicated he disagreed.

“I just want to start testing and get paid, doc,” whined Max, peering into the dark rooms.  Sealed with sturdy plastic walls, a series of air holes drew Max closer.

Jumping from the shadows, an eight-legged creature slammed against the wall.  A few inches of plastic separated Max from shear sized mandibles snapping shut with a loud click.  The creature’s legs, spanning two meters, joined together creating bat-like wings.

Falling down, Max yelled, backing across the floor.   Thick front legs with course, black hairs pawed at the plastic making terrible squeaking noises.

“You will get paid upon completing beta testing.”

Feeling foolish compared to the calm doctor, Max clambered to his feet, “You’re keeping them here?” he exclaimed.

“Not to worry.  They are well confined.”  Turning, the doctor said, “Shall we continue?”  Another glance revealed hairy legs carrying the black spider to the floor, disappearing into the shadowy recesses.  Barring his eyes shut, a shiver raked Max’s body.

Climbing a flight of stairs and stepping out on Level Two, the doctor stated, “When phase one beta testing concludes, phase two will begin training soldiers.”  The doctor showed Max to a small lab room a few down from the stairwell.  “Make yourself comfortable.  Someone will be along to assist you.  Use the intercom box on the wall should you need anything.  Just ask for Dr. Isaak Klien.  Good luck, Mr. Feral.”

No signal, no internet, frowned Max, who played an app while waiting, chilled a bit from a cold air vent above him.  He didn’t play long.  The room flooded with flashing red light.  A high pitched alarm followed.  Max jumped off the bed, unsure what to do.  A computerized woman’s voice said, “Warning, Level Three containment breach of hostile test subjects.  All personnel proceed to the end of Level One for immediate evacuation.”

Max rushed to the intercom, “Hey, what the hell’s going on.  How do I get to the end of Level One, damn it!?  Dr. Klien?”  Static.  He cursed, “Why the hell didn’t I pay attention?  Idiot!”

Bam, bam, bam against the small window in the door jumped Max.  Peering revealed a security guard.  “Open the door!  You’ve got to get out of here, now!” ordered the guard.

Max was shaking his head when legs pulled the guard up out of sight screaming.  A squelching sound ceased the screams.  Max started as red fluid and oozing drool rained down on the window.

Denting sheet metal drew his eyes.  A bulge in the duct advanced in spurts toward his vent.  Max stepped back.  He watched hairy legs push aside louvers.  Max bolted when the spider wrenched up the vent and dropped to the floor, clicking its mandibles.

Outside, he tripped over the guard’s MP5, kicking it across the hall.  Slipping in the ooze, he scrambled after it.  Fingers found the trigger as he crashed into the wall.  He aimed the weapon.  Click.  “Damn it!”  His thumb found the safety as two black legs grabbed his own.  An onslaught of screams and gunfire brought the beast down at his feet.  Digging out his legs, he stood and ran down the hall, quietly as possible.

Max made his way through a labyrinth of halls searching for access to Level One plagued by sounds of screaming victims and scampering footfalls.  He was now low on ammo after stumbling on another spider feeding in an adjacent hall.  Approaching the next corner with caution, he heard more footfalls.  He crept close as they grew louder.  Nearly on top of him, he jumped out, firing the MP5.

Two young men, one fell to the floor, the other ducked down, arms shielding him.  Max stared speechless.  The other man gave his fallen companion a quick look, then flew passed Max yelling, “Run!  They’re attracted to gunfire.”  Looking back, Max watched the ceiling further down burst open, a nest of spiders pouring out, filling the hall with their clicking mandibles.

The two men ran, following signs for Level One.  Spiders followed.  They scurried across the floor, the walls, even the ceiling.  Others jumped, legs spread, to glide through the hall unnaturally.

Spiders chased them to a collapsed hall.  An opening near the top of the debris pile appeared big enough to pass through.  They scaled the pile.  Max scrambled through.  The debris shifted under his companion, trapping his leg.  He tugged, yelling, “I’m stuck!  Help me!”

Out of ammo, Max fled, leaving the man to his fate.  Hoping to hide, he shut himself inside a closet as spiders swarmed over the screaming man.  Trying not to cry too loudly, Max begged in a whisper, “Please, please, please go away,” only to have his pleas answered by a loud click, click, click behind him.

Beeeeeeep.  A lab tech reached up, turning off the electrocardiogram.  Then, keying the intercom, she reported, “We’ve lost another beta tester, Dr. Klein.”

“Prep the next one,” reported the intercom.

“They aren’t even making it to Level One,” said another tech.

“I know.  At this rate, we’re going to need a lot more gamers,” said the first.