“Well, this is it,” Melvin said. “SOUL Labs.”

The corners of Andrew’s mouth crept up slightly, as he took a moment to marvel at the grand, elegant design of the black marbled flooring and polished white walls of the facility. Staring up, the ceiling of the huge lobby was likely more than five floors’ worth of distance away.

“Good afternoon, students from Maple Leaf Senior High! On behalf of everyone at SOUL Labs, welcome! My name is Tina, and I’ll be your guide for today. So, for those of you who don’t already know, SOUL Labs is short for Searching, Observing, Understanding and Learning Laboratories, which was founded by Dr Noah Minerva in 1996. Originally a small business making microscopes and laboratory equipment, SOUL Labs is now one of the most advanced science research groups around the globe...”

“Wonder what we’ll get to see,” Melvin said. “Besides the GM things you keep talking about.”

“Their facilities, I guess. Labs, equipment, whatever. To be honest, I’m only here for the creatures,” Andrew answered. “BUT, the overall tour should be cool enough.”

“Heh, if it’s boring, then I’m blaming you for dragging me into this. Why didn’t you ask Penny?”

“She said her grandparents were visiting today, so yeah.”

“A shame. She’d probably enjoy this more than I will. But nevermind.”

The students were first led to tour the laboratories where the main research on genetics was conducted. Scientists of the various areas explained to them a simplified version of their jobs and the processes involved in genetic research and engineering. Eventually, the school’s tour group reached the part where Andrew was looking forward to.

“I’m sure many of you have been eagerly waiting for this part of the tour. Maybe some of you may have signed up for this trip just to see them. We have here our SOUL-developed, genetically engineered organisms, many of which are personally designed by Dr Minerva. He’s the founder, in case you forgot. Feel free to take a look around, but please do not knock on the glass, and also take note that photography is not allowed.”

The Maple Leaf Senior High students and a chaperone teacher trailed behind Tina, like a flock of sheep behind their shepherd, all staring in awe at the contents of the various racks of glass tanks. A few other groups of people lingered in the vicinity. They were a few of the numerous guided tour groups of the facility on that day, the anniversary of the founding of SOUL Labs. The school had spent years trying to book a tour, and for the first time, they succeeded. Andrew considered himself lucky to happen to be in Maple Leaf Senior High at the right time, and to be able to sign up for the field trip.

Andrew made eye contact with a tiny three-headed, long-necked black lizard-like creature, featuring elongated spines on its back, finished with a tail that had thagomizers, or as more people would call them, spikes. A nano-hydra maybe? Andrew assumed. The creature was elaborate, engineered by the scientists at SOUL Labs. But its habitat was not. A desolate tank, filled with water to keep its aquatic resident alive.

At another section, an amalgamation of creatures caught his eye, a white-furred mammal of sorts, seemingly a rabbit with a pair of proportionally large teeth protruding out of its mouth, reminding him of a walrus. He inched closer to the glass to get a clearer look, but saw the rabbit jump back, twitching as if threatened, and it unhinged its jaw to flash its tusks, hoping to intimidate its challenger.

Putting his face closer to the glass wall, Andrew noticed the tiny serrations on the beast’s two teeth, which should help it tear through flesh with greater ease.

He yelped and squirmed backwards when the rabbit realised that intimidation did not work and decided to tackle him instead. Fortunately for Andrew, the glass wall took the attack, complaining with a loud thump.

His heartbeat reverberated across his body, as he backed away further from the rabbit. Moving onto the other tanks, he observed the rest of the creatures.

“Hey, check this bad boy out. It’s like a mini Loch Ness.”

Melvin called him over through a rack, pointing at an aquatic tank, housing an ancient-looking scaly creature.

Its proportionally small head, long neck, and four-flippered body made it resemble a prehistoric plesiosaur from the Mesozoic Era. Perhaps SOUL had discovered a way to recreate the animals whose existence was only known to mankind from their fossils.

The aquatic animal seemed to be agitated by Andrew’s approach, and it began to dart around the water and bump into the glass wall in front of it.

Then there was an uncomfortably loud du-du-du, not made by the Loch Ness Mini, but coming from upstairs.

“You heard that too, right?” Andrew asked apprehensively.

“Yep. Sounds like gunfire alright,” Melvin responded. “I don’t feel very good about this.”

A shrieking emergency alarm soon followed, startling the crowd. Even the animals in the tanks were sent into a frenzy by the noise.

“This is definitely not part of the tour,” Andrew commented, as he glanced around, slightly crouching in anticipation of danger, his body tense, as he moved away from the glass exhibits.

Four security personnel appeared and began to give instructions on what to do, but few people actually paid attention and got in the line they were trying to form.

The guide had disappeared amidst the chaos, so the chaperone teacher took charge and told the students to follow.

A few people headed towards the lift, ignoring the security personnel’s instructions, wanting to take the lift up to get out of SOUL. Andrew thought it was a bad idea, especially since the gunfire came from upstairs. But then again, they could be stuck here, in the basement lab.

Andrew took a look at the lift floor display, which changed from 1 to B1 before anyone even pressed the button for the lift. He could almost say for sure that something bad was about to happen. So he stopped following the chaperone teacher to the security personnel, and squatted down, looking at the lift through a gap in the shelf of equipment he hid behind.

Melvin motioned for him to come to them, but Andrew shook his head. Melvin tried to mouth, what are you doing? Come here!

The doors opened sluggishly, bullets flying at full blast out of the lift before the shooters were even revealed. The thundering of gunfire seemed to disorientate some people, affecting their sense of hearing for a few moments.

Andrew lost sight of Melvin soon enough.

Half a dozen men in lab coats filed out of the lift, continuing their barrage of fire. Ironically it was the people who had followed the security personnel’s instructions who took the first wave of gunfire.

The four security personnel present were shot swiftly, uttering brief grunts before they collapsed in blood. Another gunshot sounded, this one different from the rest. A gunman fell along with them, a reddish hole at the side of his neck marking the entry point of a bullet.

One of the security personnel had managed to score a shot with his pistol before he fell as a final deed, and that had taken the gunman out.

Now it was five shooters against a lab of a dozen times more people. But, it was like five wolves against a herd of sheep, despite outnumbering the shooters, the people stood no chance.

But they could run. People ran away up the stairs, even though they knew there was gunfire above as well. Perhaps they were taking to the upper floors where hopefully the shooters would have a hard time finding them.

The shooters did not have those people in their line of sight, so they were lucky. But the people who were not already near the stairs were not. Some ran past the glass tanks to make their way to the stairs, but that was when they were shot down. Only a few managed to avoid being shot, the people behind them taking all the punishment.

Seeing this, some people ducked and began to hide wherever they could, finding tools and lab equipment to defend themselves if they encountered a shooter. They saw a better way to go down than being shot in the back while fleeing.

Andrew leaned against a shelf of equipment, close to the glass tanks housing the creatures he was observing earlier, separated from his friend Melvin.

One of the shooters got on his knee to examine his fallen comrade, although he kept his weapon ready to fire. The rest continued to advance forward, looking for targets. Some people were running for an exit, hoping that they would be fortunate enough not to get hit by a bullet. Some were lucky to make it up a flight of stairs, while the rest who were further away from the stairs met their ends.

A scientist who hid behind a desk whipped out a burner and flicked the switch, an orange then blue flame spitting out, launching a surprise attack on a passing shooter. The crackling flames spread on the shooter’s lab coat and armored vest, and he growled painfully as he gunned down the scientist vengefully.

Finding a tap, he tried to douse the spreading flame, but another brave scientist knocked him out with the hard thunk of a fire extinguisher, shattering the shooter’s goggles. The scientist picked up the downed shooter’s weapon and punctured him full of holes to ensure his death, even as the shooter was still burning.

The barrel of a shooter’s gun smoked, as one of the remaining four watched the scientist fall before him, dead before he could aim a proper retaliation shot. The gun was however live and firing, blasting benches and boxes full of holes, rumbling insistently, the dead scientist’s finger still pressing on the trigger.

As he landed with a thud on the floor, his vitals out, the gun finally stopped rattling, his hand opening just enough for the gun to slide out.

Andrew’s brain yelled at him to stay behind cover, but he still found himself poking his head out from behind his shelf, and immediately saw the gun and hand of the dead scientist some distance away, his body obscured by a table.

Andrew quickly withdrew, wiping the sweat off his palms onto his shirt. The shooter had stepped into his line of sight to retrieve the gun stolen by the scientist.

Andrew heard the chkk of the gun being reloaded, and the clatter of an empty mag bouncing the floor. More people would die. He could end up becoming one of them. He tried to remain silent, barely holding back a cry, turning to the gap in his shelf to observe the movements of the shooters.

He could see a few people hiding behind the rows of shelves and benches in front of his shelf, and he knew that the shooters would get to them sooner. He could not watch that happen, so he turned his back on the shelf. After the shooters got to them, they would get to him eventually. If he was going to die, he might as well try something.

He saw the racks of glass tanks that he was looking at earlier. What if he set the creatures loose? It could serve as a distraction, allowing a few more people to make it to the staircase to flee. But he would be in the line of fire of the shooters if he ran to the glass racks. His gaze fell upon the racks at the further end, which were beside a wall that could obscure him from the shooters.

He turned back to face the shelf, cautiously moving a few pieces of equipment, trying to find a perfect object that could be used to break glass. His palms oozed sweat more than ever, but he managed to maintain his grip on the equipment. Eventually he found the ideal item, a retort stand with a metal base. It sagged in his arms, and his veins bulged as he withheld a grunt. He tightened his grip, praying that he wouldn’t drop it from all the sweat on his hands.

He put down the retort stand, giving his arms a shake, relaxing his hands and fingers for a brief moment to recover. Now all he had to do was run to the glass shelves and give them a good smack with the retort stand. The furthest one was probably twenty metres away. He might have a chance.

His brain yelled no, but he did it anyway. The monster lizard in one of the tanks at the further end flinched and backed away as Andrew burst towards it and put all his strength into swinging the retort stand.

The glass shattered under the force of the blow, but Andrew lost his hold on the retort stand as well. It slipped out of his hands and clanked on the ground. He then realised that he wouldn’t have enough time to break enough creatures free to create enough distraction for all the shooters.

The lizard hissed in joy, as it was no longer bound by its glass prison, tilting its head slightly at Andrew for a moment, as though it was thanking him. It outstretched its wings and began to fly about, enjoying the unrestricted airspace.

The shooters had heard his initial attack on the glass tank, and were about to investigate before noticing the flying reptile circling around in the air.

Books and files thumped onto the floor as the reptile tackled different objects, still not fully in control of its flight. Live rounds were fired as a shooter tried to take down the creature, but the bullets clanked onto the floor after ricocheting off the ceiling.

Some of the people hiding realised what Andrew was trying to do, and they began to whisper. A few of them headed for a rack of tanks and collectively pushed it down.

Every glass tank cracked apart in unison, creating a painful noise. Soon enough, random creatures began popping out of their confinements and began to scramble around.

The shooters were troubled, more bullets were wasted on the creatures that neared them. But one shooter was unshaken, and moved forward at a greater speed. His initial caution and slow advancement was in case he was ambushed by multiple people at once and couldn’t aim his weapon. But now, even though the animals distracted his fellow gunmen, they would also distract the people from being ready for a gunman’s attack. So he ran and fired away, killing a few people who were about to flee while the animals were still distracting the shooters.

The shooter headed for the racks of tanks, knowing that he would find whoever was responsible.

Screams were silenced as the rattling of a gun replaced them. The bodies of the people who had caught on with Andrew’s idea of providing a distraction lay on the floor.

Andrew watched from behind the glass tanks. He couldn’t see clearly through the multiple rows of glass tanks, but he knew some people had just been killed. His heart stung. He felt responsible, even though he knew that if he hadn’t done anything, if they had not done anything, they would probably all be killed nonetheless.

But most importantly, he felt fear from watching the armored gunman relentlessly firing at the people. His heart pounded loud and clear, as he shivered tremendously. Now that he was going to face death, he realised that he was not ready to die.

The shooter turned around to look for his next target, and faced Andrew’s direction.

He froze, still behind his glass rack, hoping he was not actually seen. After all it was quite a few rows of tanks away, with plenty of things to obstruct the view.

But the shooter raised his gun and fired, blasting half a glass tank off from the edge of the rack, which told Andrew otherwise. Maybe his silhouette was still visible through multiple layers of glass. Anyway, he dashed past the rack, running for the stairs. He did not hear any more gunfire.

The shooter appeared out of one of the racks from a few metres away, running toward the entrance of the staircase, laughing underneath the ski mask that concealed his face. “I have you now.”

Andrew screamed. The stairs were at the halfway point between Andrew and the shooter. There was no way out. The shooter, while running towards Andrew, aimed his weapon at him, who backed down, in tears.

But Andrew ended up making one last attempt to run. Anyone would have done the same. Turning left, he ran as fast as possible in the narrow-ish space between two racks of tanks as he sounded out desperately for help, even though he knew no one would come.

The shooter reached the racks and saw Andrew almost about to get away, and fired promptly, letting out only one bullet. His gun clicked multiple times, but no other bullets came out.

But that lone fired bullet found its target, wedging itself into flesh and blood.

Andrew dropped onto the floor, letting out a cry of pain, his fingers feeling the warm, hard casing of the bullet that was embedded in his left elbow, and also the sliminess of his blood.

Barely having time to absorb what just happened to him, the shooter came up to Andrew, and forced him into a chokehold.

“I don’t need bullets to kill you,” the shooter said, heaving Andrew and tossing him towards a bench.

Andrew cried out as he made contact with the bench, his elbow striking the edge and driving the bullet further into his flesh. His back and head were hurting from the impact, as he gritted his teeth and lay face-down in defeat.

He wanted to be able to run. He wasn’t done with living. But he saw the boots of the shooter enter his vision.

Expecting a kick, Andrew closed his eyes and braced for impact, praying that something would happen to save him. Instead he heard the rustling and clinking of glass, as he was flipped around by strong arms, and saw a test tube filled with red liquid heading towards his mouth.

It was too late to shut his mouth. He gagged and spat out some of the bitter, cold chemical, kicking and punching wildly, ignoring the bleeding and pain in his elbow. The shooter stepped back and delivered one last blow with his boot.

Andrew’s head rang in pain, a dusty grey sole imprint on his forehead. His eyes closed as he felt his consciousness begin to slip. But he began to hear the distant wail of a police siren. Too late to save him.

...

Andrew awoke after an unknown amount of time, his mouth dry and still feeling bitter from the chemical. He rubbed his forehead where he was kicked, but didn’t feel a lump or any bruise. Puzzled, he slowly got up, once again hearing the shrill sound of ambulance sirens somewhere above. His knees shook uncontrollably, as he leaned against the bench he was thrown into earlier for support.

All the shooters were gone. Either gone from SOUL or arrested. He hoped it was the latter.

After a minute of attempting to steady himself, he managed to stop his knees from shaking, and made his way to a tap, turning on the water supply. The water was cold, and soothing to his mouth. He gargled and spat out the remnants of the chemical. He survived it for now, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be affected by it. Perhaps a stomach ache and a long trip to the toilet was awaiting him.

Then he remembered the bullet wound in his left elbow. He turned his arm to examine his elbow, but there was nothing. No bullet, no wound, no blood.

“What the...” Andrew recalled the events earlier. All that definitely wasn’t a hallucination. Looking around him, there were bodies scattered all over the place, pools of blood, bullet shells strewn on the floor, presumably-empty magazines, jagged glass shards, and the fallen rack of glass tanks earlier. He looked away, his breath trembling. He felt his chest tighten. Poor civilians who died early. They didn’t deserve it. Their families didn’t deserve the pain of losing their loved ones.

He muttered a prayer, and moved on. He reached into his pocket for his phone. Seeing the clock, he was probably out for about ten minutes. If he had heard the police siren right before he lost consciousness, they must’ve been taking a long time to come down. Maybe there were more shooters upstairs who were trading bullets with the police.

Using his camera, he looked at his own face, his forehead. There was a dusty grey footprint, evidence that the shooter had indeed kicked him. He ran back to the bench that he was knocked out at, and spotted a bullet on the floor. It had to be the one that caused his elbow wound.

A thought at the back of his mind poked him. The chemical he was forced to drink, it must’ve done something to him. Healed his wound instead of doing whatever the shooter had intended.

Andrew looked for a shard of glass. If he cut himself, and he healed quickly, it would reveal everything.

Walking to the racks of glass tanks, he stopped before a glass tank that had probably been blown apart by a bullet. It had a missing corner, and the jagged remains were perfect for cutting himself. So he lifted a finger, and drew it against the glass quickly with a small amount of pressure.

He winced, seeing a line of blood form quickly on his skin as well as some red left on the glass. He squinted his eyes, examining his finger closely.

Traces of blood streaked out of the slit in his finger, but in a few seconds, they reversed their direction, sinking back into his hand. The cut began to vanish, his cells quickly joining back and closing the wound, as if it had never existed.

This is... impossible.

He heard the door from a floor above swing open, as the loud stomping of boots echoed through the enclosed stairway.

He yelped and put his hands up as a police officer appeared at the door, gun raised. The police officer heaved a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon as his fellow policemen appeared behind him. “Let’s get you outta here,” the officer said, giving him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “It’s safe upstairs.”

The rest of the squad continued on, after Andrew notified them that the shooters were gone. After all, it was a crime scene, and they still had to secure it and investigate.

On the ground floor, policemen were examining the scene, with paramedics hurrying about, carrying the wounded on stretchers. Andrew spotted the chaperone teacher talking agitatedly to an officer, most of the other students in his school who came for the field trip were huddled there. He also saw a few other clusters of people, likely the other groups on the guided tour.

“Hey kid, are you with any of these groups?” the policeman who took him up asked.

“Yeah, I’m with the school,” Andrew responded, pointing to the Maple Leaf Senior High students. Then, he noticed that Melvin was there, seemingly unscathed but likely a little shaken, at the very least.

“Alright. Before that, do you mind if I grab a colleague to ask a few questions? It’d help us with our investigation of this incident.”

“Sure. Standard police protocol, anyway,” Andrew replied, as the policeman walked towards a group of officers.

Just then, a figure in a suit dashed into the facility, drawing the attention of some people nearby. The person stopped, hurriedly looking around, transfixed on the group of students. Andrew recognised him to be his father.

“Dad!”

David turned his head to see Andrew running towards him, so he outstretched his arms and gave Andrew a tight hug. “Thank God! You’re safe,” he cried out, as he released Andrew from the embrace and examined him for injuries.

It was at that moment where Andrew realised he had to make a choice: to lie that he was fine, or to reveal his discovery. Then again, it seemed that it wouldn’t be a lie to say that he was okay, given that he had not felt any sort of internal discomfort yet.

Three other detectives ran into the building—Harrison Slyde, Frank Thomas and Valeria Hardy. The three of them knew Andrew as well, during the few times they came over to the Lakes’ for dinner. They came over and asked Andrew how he felt.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but everything was a shock.” Andrew made his choice. He would keep it a secret for now. Even if he had to tell his father, he would do so later. Now, in front of so many other people, it felt like a bad idea no matter what.

His father nodded. “Everything’s okay now. You’re safe.”