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Chapter 3 - 3 Code:Monster

***

Varin didn't know exactly what their captors were trying to achieve, but from bits and pieces of the doctors and guards conversations he could tell it was something only monsters would conceive, let alone try on other human beings. He caught the phrase, "Genetic alterations and mutations", not exactly something you want to hear when being injected by all sorts of unknown solutions. Varin figured that their goal was to make man-made monsters to be sold to the highest bidder for whatever destructive purpose they desire. Keeping the desirable mutations and selling the poor souls that ended up turning into twisted mindless creatures of bloodlust and pain, granted the subject survived to that point.

Of course all of this wasn't just assumptions based on bits and pieces of conversations. For Varin had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing one such creature just before Dagen arrived.

Then, a couple days after Dagens arrival, he also got to witness one such creature being unceremoniously dragged down the hallway on a tarp while sedated by the guards. The only human-like features remaining was its left arm and the left half its face, seemingly frozen in a state of unexplainable pain.

The other arm was grossly bigger like that of a gorilla. However instead of fur there was stretched skin with lumps and growths that oozed some kind of green puss. The other side of its face was bulbous making the skin stretched back to show its strangely pointed jagged teeth. Its torso was covered in bumps and darker in color with a type of mucus like secretion, making it look glossy.

He couldn't see its legs completely due to them being covered by the tarp, but he could tell that that bit of the creature didn't end up any better. The sight and smell made him gag, he would've thrown up if he had anything in his stomach to throw up.

Dagen leaned over with one hand on his stomach, wide eyed and in a cold sweat;

'That… that was a human being! A person! At least, it WAS a person.'

Watching them pass with a sort of disgusted indifference, Varins only though was:

'And then there were 8.'

Seeing Dagens reaction, Varin decided to solidify the assumptions that were forming in his neighbors mind so that Dagen might be able to clearly see his situation. Without leaving him and his imagination to run wild, causing him to snap within his own thoughts.

After all, sharing a traumatic experience with someone in the same boat is a good way of retaining ones sanity.

Not wanting to let Dagen steep in his own thoughts any longer, Varin looked him dead in the eyes, and calmly said:

"You see that? That is what awaits us. That is what they are going to do with us."

All Dagen could do was stare at Varin with a face of utter horror and panic.

"So… are you just going to sit there and let them turn you into a beast? Turn us? Or are you going to help me get us out of here?"

Dagen was confused by these questions,

'Huh!?'

'I thought he had given up on escaping. At least, it seemed that way. The way he looked at me when we met made it seem like there was no hope of ever leaving this hell. He even told me to get comfortable being here. So why all of a sudden…?'

Looking over at Varin with a complex swirl of emotions he asked:

"Now you want to escape? Where was this when I had just arrived? Why let us stay trapped in this hell longer if you can get us out of here!? What the hell were you wanting for!?"

Then, a dangerous look appeared on Varin that Dagen had never seen before, he slid back a little on instinct as a slight grin formed on Varins face,

"You."

"I was waiting, for you."

***

Varin was barely conscious when being dragged into this hell and only has a fuzzy memory of the outside area. From what he could discern from memory, this place should be underground somewhere in the mountains. High enough to make breathing a bit harder at least, only noticeable when straining yourself.

He did have a good idea of what route he could take to reach the exit he came in at. He repeated it to himself constantly.

'Go out the left door, turn right, left, left, right.'

However, getting out of the cell was another matter. He is quite proficient at lockpicking but no matter how good he may be, he can't pick a lock with nothing but his bare hands.

Getting past the guards would be tricky as well. Each equipped with being well rested, fed, as well as having armor vests, tranquilizer guns, and batons. They patrolled back around every 10 minutes, always in pairs, and there was bound to be a couple stationed at both doors at the ends of the hall. Not to mention that a few might be along the way to the exit, maybe even some standing at the exit.

No way for him to escape… at least, not by himself.