Blood Bourbon

Sabotage

Daryl paused when he got to the level with the laboratory, he recognized it from the times he had walked up and down these stairs himself, as he heard the growls and snarls of the Sharur's a few floors below him. He recognized the smell of them as well, though the implication that he could pick up the scent of wet dog and decaying flesh this far away caused him to shudder. He wondered, not for the first time, what they had injected him with, why he could suddenly pick up so much more than he should be able to, move quieter and a without the clumsiness of being human.

His body was still fatigued after days in bed and everything they had been putting him through. The amount of blood they took from him alone was probably more than was healthy, though they had never stopped to consider any of that.

There. He heard the scientists leaving the laboratory and talking about lunch break, chatting idly as if they were working in a legitimate company and not manipulating the DNA of monsters and unwilling people. He wondered what they told themselves at the end of the day, about what they were doing to him and all the innocent people that had died.

After delaying far longer than he intended, Daryl slipped through the door and walked silently down the hallway to the laboratory door.

He frowned at the key code in front of him, racking his brain for any idea of what the code could possibly be. He didn't remember them hitting codes in, the doors having been opened from the inside when the scientists had seen them approach. Daryl snarled in frustration, reaching out and grabbing hold of the keypad with his hand.

Only, it wasn't his hand, it was a large, clawed paw that dug into the flimsy metal casing and ripped the whole device off the wall, causing a small jolt of electricity, followed by the doors swinging open.

Daryl dropped the keypad in surprise, watching as his hand returned back to normal. The shock of it all had caused his frustration to disappear and he felt his body tremble as it dumped whatever adrenaline had gone through him as a result of the fury. "It's ok."

He stepped into the lab hurriedly, glancing around for a moment, trying to figure out what he was looking at. It was a decent sized room, walls lined with metal counters and shelves holding various equipment above eye height. There was a long metal island down the centre where most of the machines were and the spot beside him near the door held the chair he sat in while they were drawing blood from him. A doorway across the room led to a room where they had used more invasive procedures on him, to get samples beyond blood. Bone marrow, sperm samples, spinal fluid, they had drilled and abused his body as if he were a mere machine and the memories flashed across his mind as he pulled his eyes away from that set of double doors.

He saw that the medical specimen transport case, essentially just a large sixty litre cooler with locks on it, was sitting on the central island. Beside it were stacks of a couple hard drives, laptops, a tablet and multiple notebooks, all of which he had seen the nurses and scientists recording information in every time he had been worked on.

Daryl walked over to the computer equipment and quickly stacked it into the incinerator chamber that was on the far end of the one counter. In went the hard drives and notebooks, until the chamber was completely filled. He threw in a couple compressed gas canisters that he saw stacked on some shelves for good measure, then turned to the cooler. Daryl ripped that open with half the effort he expected to need before he upended the contents into one of the large sinks.

Frantically, he glanced around the lab and grabbed a large microscope, hefting it from its position on the long island and using it to smash open the glass containers that hadn't 't broken from his rough treatment. Then he grabbed a couple bottles of random acidic looking concoctions and dumped them in, turning on the hot water taps as he did so.