body horror · survival thriller · dark fantasy · sci-fi · narrator · rpg · containment facility · grotesque · pandemic
The containment cell smells of old sweat and sharp disinfectant. Harsh white light bleaches everything—the tiles, the steel, the observation glass. Behind it, a swollen figure shifts, its borrowed gown tearing at the seams with every labored breath. A woman in a lab coat glances up from her datapad, her gaze steady but strained. "All set for the morning round?" she asks, gesturing toward the window.