It was a massive bulb of fleshy, bark-like tissue, split open at the top like a flower in bloom. The edges of the rupture curled outward, revealing slick, fibrous insides—like layers of meat peeled apart. Something had escaped from it. Whatever had been inside had clawed its way out.

And the room bore the evidence.

Slashes along the walls. Deep, oozing gashes in the floor. Stains that looked like footprints but were too wide, too uneven.

“What the absolute fuck…” Andrea muttered, one hand over her mouth.

Glenn, god help him, stepped forward.

He knelt by one of the vine-wrapped bed frames and pulled a switchblade from his waistband. A swift flick, and he cut a piece of vine loose.

The cocoon shuddered.

Then wept.

Blood—thick, dark, and clotted—poured from a fresh wound that bloomed across the surface like a gaping mouth. The smell that hit them was unbearable: raw, iron-rich, and rotted. Blood that had fermented. It slid off the cocoon in thick globs, slapping wetly onto the squishy floor.

A large splatter landed on Glenn’s shoes. He winced.

“Well. That was gross.”

He tucked the sample into his coat like it was nothing.

The others stared at him like he’d just kissed a corpse.

A scream shattered the stillness.

Yasir.

He thrashed backward from the fleshy cocoon, slapping at his chest, arms, neck—wild, panicked. His voice cracked, screaming in Arabic, fast and broken, like his mouth was trying to outrun the things crawling under his skin.

“Yallah! Get them off me! They’re on me, they’re—”

His fingers clawed at his shirt, dragging bloody welts down his skin as he tried to rip invisible things free from his body.

“They’re biting me!”

Star snapped into motion, catching Yasir’s wrists before he could do worse. “Yasir—Yasir, look at me!”

The man bucked against him like a live wire. Star held firm—not forcefully, but with enough weight to be unmovable. He brought Yasir’s trembling hands down to his sides and squeezed gently, grounding him.

“I’ve got you. There’s nothing there. Nothing is on you.”

Yasir blinked furiously. Sweat poured from his face, wide eyes darting between corners of the room like something might leap from the walls.

“No bugs,” Star whispered. “No spiders. Just us.”

Gradually, Yasir stilled.

His breaths came sharp and shallow, eyes glassy with leftover fear. Star stayed with him until Yasir gave a tiny nod, like his body was his again.

They were all too quiet now. Even Glenn had stopped poking at the vine-slick walls. The cocoon oozed gently in the background, ignored for now.

Star stood, brushing blood from his palms. He turned to face the group.

“This place… something’s in the air.” His voice trembled despite his best efforts. “It’s messing with our heads. Hallucinations. Fear. I don’t know how—but we can’t trust our own eyes anymore.”

Andrea looked at him, wary. Glenn, skeptical. Yasir said nothing.

“If we see something—anything—we need to confirm it with each other before we believe it’s real.” Star exhaled slowly. “Hallucinations shouldn’t match across different people… right?”

Silence.

From the doorway, Andrea spoke up, voice thin: “What if… what if this is the trial?”

Everyone turned. Star blinked—he hadn’t realized they’d wandered this far into the room.

Andrea stepped forward slowly, hands fidgeting at her sides. “Think about it. What if this is the study?”

Her eyes flicked to the fleshy bulb.

“We were brought here, kept under observation… we don’t know what they were really watching for. And now this. What if this—whatever this is—is part of it?”

Yasir was still sitting on the ground, shoulders tight, eyes distant. But he spoke, voice rough:

“Either way, it’s gone too far. No one’s in control anymore. Whatever they wanted—this isn’t it.” He pushed himself up, brushing past Star with a shiver. “We need to get out.”

Star hesitated, then said something stupid:

“What if we… wait for help?”

They all turned.

Andrea scoffed. “Come on, Star. You know no one’s coming for us.”

Her words cut deep because they were true.

“No families. No missing person’s alerts. We’re the kind of people that go missing and no one blinks. Nobody’s checking in. Not for any of us.”

Her voice cracked slightly, but she held it together.

Star didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he looked at the center of the room. At the still-pulsing thing. It was alive. And whatever had come out of it was worse.

Maybe they wouldn’t die here.
Maybe something else would use them.

They moved again.

Glenn took the lead, jaw clenched, eyes scanning each hallway like it might bite him. The facility seemed to grow more distorted the deeper they went. The air felt heavier here, humid with rot. The walls sweated beads of amber liquid that smelled like old meat and rusted metal. Even the lights above—what few remained functional—flickered with a weak, jaundiced hue.

Then they found it.

A door. Massive. Heavy. Reinforced steel, the kind that screamed high security—or keep something in.

Star recognized it. They’d passed it earlier, when it had been firmly locked down. Untouchable. Now…