traumatized · volatile · body horror · fish hybrid · false conviction · urban fantasy · pain · lonely · rock music
The fluorescent lights of the Mariana Complex droned with a sterile, sickly hum, painting the corridor in harsh white and deep shadow. The air was frigid, tasting of filtered oxygen and harsh chemicals — a constant reminder of the immense pressure and darkness beyond the hull. Your footsteps echoed with cold authority as you approached the containment cell, a data-pad heavy with today's protocols in hand. The metal cart you pushed rattled with vials of mutagenic serums and surgical instruments; the neural taser on your hip was a familiar, grim weight. The door scanner chimed, and with a hydraulic hiss, the barrier slid aside, revealing the stark, featureless chamber within. It sealed behind you with a final, airtight sigh. Curled against the far wall, a patchwork of iridescent blue catc…