I step onto the next floor, and it's immediately different. The air here is colder, sharper, as if the very walls are warning me to turn back. The lights flicker erratically, casting long, ominous shadows that seem to stretch out and twist into grotesque shapes. I can already sense that this floor is more dangerous—smarter, in a way. The traps are no longer just mindless death mechanisms. They're designed with purpose, each one meant to lure, confuse, and kill.
The floor is a maze of interconnected rooms, each one more ominous than the last. I move cautiously, my eyes scanning every inch for the smallest sign of danger. I can see cracks in the walls where hidden devices might be lurking, ready to spring the moment I make a mistake. The tension in the air is thick, suffocating, like I'm walking through the jaws of a predator waiting to snap shut.
Ahead, I spot a door, slightly ajar, leading into a room dimly lit by faint, glowing screens. The hum of machinery fills the air, and for the first time in a long while, there's no immediate threat. No growls, no scurrying claws. Just eerie, mechanical quiet.
I push the door open and step inside.
The room is small, cramped, filled with old, rusted consoles and screens flickering with grainy footage. There are no windows, just rows of monitors stacked on top of one another, each showing different parts of the facility. For a moment, I just stand there, watching the scenes play out on the screens—cages filled with monstrous creatures, test subjects strapped to tables, bloodied tools scattered across metal countertops.
A pile of old security logs sits beside one of the monitors, covered in dust. I wipe away the grime and scroll through them, the text barely legible on the cracked screen. What I can make out is enough to make my stomach turn.
This place wasn't just a lab. It was a breeding ground for monsters.
The footage shifts, showing the early stages of the experiments—human subjects being dragged into rooms, their bodies writhing in agony as they're fused with beasts. The screams echo faintly through the room, tinny and distorted through the speakers, but they send chills down my spine all the same.
I watch as limbs are twisted, flesh molded into unnatural shapes, metal fused to bone. These creatures... they were once human. They were people before this place turned them into mindless killers. But instead of feeling pity or horror, a strange sense of curiosity creeps in. It's not hatred—not the kind I should feel for those responsible for this.
But something inside me burns—*a desire to find them.* A desire to tear apart the people behind these experiments, to destroy every fusion they've created. Not out of anger, but out of a cold, calculated need to erase what should never have existed.
I don't hate them. I just know they need to die.
The sound of heavy footsteps pulls me from the monitors. I glance at the screens again, my blood running cold as I see movement on one of the cameras. A figure—a massive, hulking creature—approaching from the corridor just outside the room.
I turn, my grip tightening around the knife as the door bursts open.
The creature towers over me, easily eight feet tall, its body a twisted fusion of muscle and metal. It has six arms, each one holding a different weapon—an axe, a sword, a hammer, a jagged metal spear, a serrated hook, and a long, spiked chain. Its head is almost human, but grotesquely stretched, its jaw unnaturally wide, rows of sharp teeth exposed in a permanent snarl. Its eyes are cold, lifeless, fixed on me with deadly intent.
This isn't just a monster. This is a boss.
It wastes no time, charging at me with terrifying speed, its six arms swinging wildly. I barely manage to duck as the axe swings over my head, the wind from the force brushing against my face. The chain snaps forward, wrapping around my ankle, and with one sharp tug, the creature pulls me off my feet, sending me crashing into the floor.
I scramble to get up, my mind racing. The monster doesn't hesitate. It swings the hammer down, and I roll out of the way just in time, the heavy weapon slamming into the ground with enough force to crack the metal.
It's fast—too fast for something its size.
I stagger to my feet, the dagger held tightly in my hand. I can't match it in strength. That much is obvious. If I try to go toe-to-toe with this thing, I'll be crushed in seconds. I need to be smarter. I need to wait for an opening.
The creature charges again, all six arms swinging in chaotic, deadly arcs. I duck and weave between the blows, barely avoiding the spear and hook as they slice through the air. My heart pounds in my chest, my body moving purely on instinct. Every step is a gamble—every dodge a brush with death.
The creature slams its hammer into the wall, and the impact sends a shower of sparks flying. I use the moment of chaos to move, ducking beneath its sword arm and slashing at its leg with the dagger. The blade cuts through the exposed flesh, but it's not deep enough to slow it down.
The creature roars in anger, swinging the chain at me again. This time, I catch it mid-swing, wrapping the chain around my arm and yanking it toward me. The monster stumbles, just for a second, but it isn't enough.
I leap forward, driving the dagger into its side, the blade sinking deep between the metal plates. The creature lets out a guttural growl, its six arms flailing wildly as it tries to shake me off. I hold on, twisting the knife deeper, but it reaches back with one of its arms, grabbing me by the shoulder and throwing me across the room.
I hit the wall hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. Pain shoots through my ribs, but I force myself to stand. The creature is wounded now, its movements slower, more erratic. But it's still coming. Still deadly.
The monster lunges at me again, but this time I'm ready. I dart to the side, avoiding the deadly swing of its axe. The creature's movements are becoming sloppier, more desperate. It's angry, but anger makes it reckless.
I wait for my moment. The dagger feels heavy in my hand, slick with the creature's blood, but I hold it steady.
The creature swings its sword, and I duck low, the blade passing just above my head. It overextends, its balance faltering, and I see my opening.
With a roar of my own, I drive forward, slashing across its exposed throat with the dagger. The blade slices through flesh and muscle, and the creature lets out a wet, gurgling growl as blood pours from the wound.
But I don't stop there.
I drop the dagger and grab one of its mechanical arms, yanking it down with all my strength. My hand pierces through the gash in its throat, fingers curling around the spine. With a final, violent pull, I tear the creature's throat open, ripping out its windpipe in a spray of blood and oil.
The monster collapses to the ground, its six arms going limp, the weapons clattering to the floor.
I stand over the body, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my arm slick with blood. The adrenaline still courses through me, the echoes of the fight ringing in my ears. The room falls silent again, save for the faint hum of the surveillance cameras watching me.
I look at the creature's corpse, its lifeless eyes staring up at me. Another fusion. Another grotesque experiment of this place. But it's dead now, like the others. And I'm still here.
I wipe the blood from my face, picking up the dagger from the floor. There's no time to waste. There are more floors to climb, more monsters to kill.
And with each floor, I'm getting closer to finding whoever did this. Whoever made me what I am.