Delivery Method (4-23-18)

[WP] Your job as a researcher in the facility isn’t too bad. The hours are shit and the coffee maker is broken, but at least the people are nice. And the job is easy: talk to the telepathic spider, run some tests on the witch, give the eldritch god his daily newspaper, basic stuff. Describe your day. [Link to post.]

Stephen Miller sighed as he clocked in. He felt a flash of disappointment when he saw the duty roster above the time clock; his name had all the worst boxes checked off. Supply run, Feed Spider, and Hide Spider. He chuckled to himself. “Might as well be my damn pet,” he thought. He bumped into Johnny, a youngish guy with dark hair, on his way out of the break room.

“Hey Johnny. We got any Spider food left?” Johnny nodded. 

“Yeah, I think there’s one left. Don’t slack on the supply run, or there’ll be trouble tomorrow.” Stephen nodded.

“Yeah I’ll take care of it. Hey, how bout a hand with the feeding before your break?” Johnny broke into a grin.

“Really? Man, I’d love it. I never get to help, and it looks so fun,” Johnny said. Stephen nodded at the weapon rank on the wall.

“Grab the shotgun,” The shotgun was the least exotic weapon, most of the others looked like futuristic laser rifles. Johnny grabbed the gun, then proceeded to eagerly point it at everything else in the room. 

“Alright, settle down. Gimme a couple minutes, then come help me move the food to Spider’s room. Got it?” Stephen asked. Johnny nodded, still fawning over his gun. Stephen left the break room. He navigated the labyrinthine halls by memory. He’d worked at the lab for years and knew the place like the back of his hand. 

He stopped walking when he heard crying. The sound came through a door to his right. He looked in and saw a young woman, about 20 or so, sitting on a bunk and crying into her knees. Stringy black hair covered her face, her knees were wet with tears. He tapped the glass.

“Hello? Hey. Who are you and what are you doing in there?” Stephen pulled a red keycard from his belt and swiped the lock to open the door. The girl looked up, but remained on the bed. She wore a black collar with the number 33 displayed on the tag. “Why are you here?”

“Because I’m a prisoner?” she asked. Stephen shook his head, then shrugged.

“I dunno it’s my first day today. If they’re keeping prisoners this gig ain’t for me. C’mon I’ll show you the way out. Stephen stretched his hand out, and she stood from the bed to clasp it.

“I’m Georgia Glass,” she said. Stephen nodded.

“I’m Steve. C’mon let’s hurry up before someone catches me letting you escape.” Stephen led Georgia through the halls, occasionally stopping to ‘get his bearings’. At one intersection Johnny walked by and raised his shotgun at them.

“HEY! Get back in your cell!” Johnny yelled at Georgia. 

“Damnit! This way!” Stephen grabbed Georgia’s hand and they ran down a corridor to their left. The shotgun went off, but neither of them got injured. He stopped in front of a large, grey metal door with the number 33 painted on its front. He looked both ways up and down the hall, both of them were breathing hard. 

“I think we lost him.” Stephen looked at the door then at Georgia’s collar. “Must be your lucky number,” he pointed at the 33 on the door. Georgia nodded. 

“It’s my favorite number,” she smiled.

“Okay, this is where you get off. As you can see, this is exit 33. There’s tons of them throughout the lab. Just go in there and climb the ladder up to the surface. I’ll head towards a different exit to throw that guy off your trail.” Stephen reached down and swiped his red key card through the digital lock. The light turned green. 

“Thank you so much! You saved my life,” Georgia hugged Stephen from the side as he moved to twist the heavy duty door handle. 

“No problem, miss. It’s all part of the job.” He opened the door wide enough to allow Georgia to slide in. Once she was half in the room he reached down to grab a device from his belt. “Oh, one more thing.” Stephen reached his closed hand outward, and held it as if he offered Georgia something. She held her open palm out waiting to receive whatever Stephen was going to give her. Stephen moved quickly. In one motion he grabbed her wrist with one hand and jammed a burning hot brand of the number 33 in her palm with his other hand. The burning tissue on her hand began to glow with golden light while she screamed at him. She fought to get away, and when he let her go she stumbled backwards into the room. A giant black and gold spider, bigger than Stephen’s proud 6′ frame, slid down from the dark space obscuring the ceiling, and Stephen closed the door to keep Georgia in the room. She reached the small porthole and frantically banged on the door. 

Johnny walked up next to Stephen and tapped on the glass to wave at Georgia. Her eyes registered betrayal and filled with despair during the last second of her life. Then, the spider bit her head off.

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