A genetic researcher driven to the edge of madness by lack of sleep and rumours of impending budget cuts splices together rubber plant and spider DNA. A self-righteous moron in Accounts, of the "chemicals are bad" variety, decides to get rid of all the caffeinated beverage dispensers in the facility under the guise of reducing costs. The researcher, driven far beyond the event horizon of sanity by caffeine withdrawal, is shipped off to a nice cozy padded cell after trying to shove the Accounts moron head first through a paper shredder. The much dreaded budget cuts happen and the facility is shut down, valuable personnel (including all the remaining research teams) and equipment transferred to the main HQ complex which suddenly had lots of room and money available because the new CEO had decided that over half of the bureaucracy in the company was nothing more than a waste of perfectly good money & oxygen and axed all the deadwood. "A solid well funded R&D program is essential to see that this company doesn't just survive in the 21st century, but that it thrives in the 22nd!" he'd thundered at the AGM. The shareholders gave him a standing ovation. The CEO vouched for the incarcerated researcher and gave him his job back.

Thanks to the psychotic break he had no recollection at all of his last experiment, he'd made no notes at the time and so didn't remember anything about a plastic bottle filled with recombinant DNA absentmindedly left in a small fridge.

In the all but empty former research facility an overworked and under-appreciated intern hurriedly goes from room to room, working through a massive checklist, a small startup company would be moving in shortly and she had to make sure nothing important had been overlooked. It should have been done much earlier but some of the deadwood, upon learning that they would no longer be required had refused to do their jobs at all, just sat around with their thumbs up their asses until they left to collect their severance pay. Which they might not be getting because they'd refused to do their jobs in violation of their contract of employment and it was now up to the lawyers. Hah. Even if they won in court the lawyers fees would eat all the severance and more leaving the useless oxygen thieves really out of pocket.

Serves them right the redhead thought as she finished checking the last area on her checklist. No wait, one last room, research staff break room.

Okay handful of chipped and battered generic mugs, ditto with a few bits of crockery and some distinctly dodgy looking glassware that's probably been here since the original occupiers moved out of this building in the 90s. And eeewww some lumps of mould in the fridge that was probably someones lunch a month ago. In the bin you go. Opened can of Pepsi .... left here by the movers or been here a month? Give it a shake ... yeah no, liquids slosh not go thud thud thud, bin! Damn it really thirsty ...... shit the water's turned off, fuck it if someone had let me know I'd be doing this today I would have brought a drink, definitely wouldn't have worn skirt and heels, my legs are killing me. Aha bottle in the fridge ... label ripped off, got RPS written in Sharpie .... well sorry RPS I know we label shit so others won't take it but I'm here, you're not and I just spent four hours going up and down four flights of stairs in five inch heels and a tight skirt. Okay it's light blue, no bits in it, smells okay, sweet but tangy, actually that smells a bit like rubber .... weird. Just a little taste ..... mmm that tastes really good, definitely hasn't gone off ...... oooh yeah really good, not too much sugar but a nice almost spicy afterbite, wish they hadn't ripped the label off so I knew what it was, would love to get more of this.

Mmmm yum that was delicious. And empty bottle in the recycling bin like a good little citizen. Right, checklists ... done, time to head back, hand this in then hopefully head home.

She walked up the hallway, the only sounds the silken rasp of her nylon sheathed legs brushing against each other and the clicking of her heels.

*sigh* Really wish there was someone here to appreciate the show I'm putting on right now. Oh well always tomorrow.

Switching off lights as she went the weary leggy redhead made her way to the main entrance, completely oblivious to the retrovirus that she had recently imbibed zipping around inside her hither and thither, busily rewriting her genetic code.

With all the bureaucratic fat trimmed away there were no longer any stupid hurdles to leap over and the hand over went smoothly and more importantly quickly, she was out of there on time and actually beat the rush hour crunch by a hairs breadth. Food then a long hot bath to soak the ache out of her long legs. By the time she finally hauled herself out of the bath all she wanted to do was sleep.

Good idea, sleeping is my second favouritist thing after oxygen. Hello bed, you feel really really good, wrap me up in yourself so I never have to get out.

Wwwhhhaaattt???? Ooooohhh feel strange. Strange dreammmm .... was climbing a wwallll .....

"Where'd she go?"

"Down here."

Mmmmmmm so horny .... am I still dreaminggg?

"Hah stupid bitch, it's a dead end"


Nottt ddreammmingg?

No, nnot.

Feel different.

"Spread out, don't let her past"

Ssseee them.


Why beelllooww? Ohhh because above.

"Where is she?!"

"Chill man, there's no way out except through us"


There are threeeeee.

"Check behind those bins."


Sooo hooorrrrnnnnyyyy.


"Come out bitch wherever you are!!"


"We will find you, I promise that."

Threeeee healllllthyyyyy preyyyyy.

Sssssssooooooooo huuuunnnnggggrrryyyyyyyyyy ........

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