Flackback ( Two hours ago )
The mistake was not arrogance.
It was curiosity.
Dr. Martin Brenner stood behind reinforced glass, hands clasped behind his back, watching Specimen One move inside the containment chamber. The creature's body was leaner than the one that had attacked Hawkins, its movements restrained by electromagnetic fields humming softly through the room.
Alive.
Contained.
Predictable.
"Begin neural stimulation," Brenner said.
A technician hesitated. "Sir, the last session already pushed its response thresholds."
"And yet it survived," Brenner replied calmly. "Proceed."
Electrodes along the creature's spine pulsed. The Demogorgon convulsed, claws scraping against invisible restraints as its head snapped upward.
Sensors spiked instantly.
Heart rate: erratic.
Neural activity: escalating.
Gate resonance: fluctuating.
"That's higher than expected," another technician said.
Brenner didn't look away. "Record everything."
The creature screamed.
Not loud layered. As if something was inside it was answering a call no one else could hear.
The electromagnetic field flickered.
Once.
"Stabilize the field," Brenner ordered.
Power surged. The hum deepened, vibrating through the walls. The creature thrashed harder now, petals of its face flexing violently.
"Sir, the gate—"
The lights dimmed.
Then the field failed.
Glass exploded outward as the containment chamber ruptured. Consoles shattered. A technician was thrown backward, slamming into the wall with a sound that made others flinch.
Specimen One hit the floor.
Free.
It lunged blindly, claws tearing into equipment, smashing steel like paper. Soldiers rushed in, rifles raised.
"Open fire!"
Gunshots echoed through the chamber. Bullets tore into the creature's torso, black blood spraying across the walls. It shrieked, staggering but not falling.
"Flamethrowers!"
Fire engulfed the Demogorgon. It screamed again — higher, sharper thrashing wildly as flames consumed its body. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.
The creature collapsed.
Twitching.
Then still.
Silence fell over the room.
Smoke curled upward.
"Target neutralized," a soldier said, voice tight.
Four bodies lay motionless near the entrance. Two more soldiers were wounded, dragged away by medics. Ammo counters flashed dangerously low.
Brenner surveyed the damage without expression.
"Seal the chamber," he ordered. "Begin cleanup."
They believed the crisis had passed.
Two levels below, Barb Holland sat alone.
The isolation room was small, windowless, reinforced steel on all sides. She'd been locked inside earlier that day "temporary containment," they'd called it after she complained about pressure in her head, about feeling watched.
The door sealed automatically as alarms blared above.
Heavy bolts slid into place with a metallic clang.
Barb jumped.
"Hello?" she called, pounding on the door. "Is anyone there?"
The lights flickered, then shifted to emergency red.
No one answered.
The room shook violently as something heavy slammed into the structure above. Dust rained down from the ceiling.
She slid down the wall, hugging her knees, heart pounding.
"What's happening?" she whispered.
Back in the main wing, the lab regrouped.
Specimen One's body was dead. The gate is stabilized now. Hallways were secured.
"How many rounds left?" Brenner asked.
"Limited," a soldier replied. "We used most of our reserves."
Brenner nodded once. "Maintain alert status."
That was when the gate spiked.
Not gradually.
Violently.
"Sir," a technician shouted, "we're reading a breach—another—"
The wall near the gate buckled inward.
Concrete cracked.
Then exploded.
The second Demogorgon burst through.
Larger. Faster. Its movements were deliberate, its body already streaked with blood from a deep gash along its side injured during emergence, but very much alive.
Gunfire erupted instantly.
Short bursts. Panicked reloads.
The creature tore through the first line of soldiers before they could regroup. A man screamed as claws ripped through armor. Another was thrown hard enough into the wall that his neck snapped.
"Fall back!"
A flamethrower ignited, fire roaring across the corridor. The Demogorgon screamed but pushed through, striking the soldier down and tearing the weapon from his hands.
Ammo ran dry.
Rifles clicked uselessly.
The lab descended into chaos.
Scientists fled only to be caught. Soldiers tried to shield corridors that led nowhere. Blood smeared the white walls in long, dragged streaks.
Brenner stood frozen near the observation glass.
"This shouldn't be possible," he whispered.
The Demogorgon reached him seconds later.
Barb heard the screaming.
It echoed through ventilation shafts, distorted but unmistakably human. She pressed her hands over her ears as the ceiling buckled slightly, something slamming into the floor above.
The lights went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
She screamed until her throat burned then stopped, afraid the sound might draw whatever was killing them closer.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The screaming faded.
The lab's hum died.
Silence settled like a weight.
Hours later, the emergency locks disengaged briefly as failing systems attempted to reset.
The door to Barb's room unlocked with a soft click.
She didn't move.
She stayed curled against the wall, shaking, listening.
Nothing.
When she finally opened the door, the hallway was dark.
Bodies lay everywhere.
Scientists. Soldiers. People she'd seen only hours earlier.
The gate chamber was destroyed walls torn open, scorch marks everywhere. Blood led away, smeared and heavy, disappearing into shadows.
Barb stepped back into the isolation room.
She sealed the door again.