Beneath the Flesh
It’s just a lab, I told myself. A normal lab—albeit very large and underneath a fucking trailer park—with equipment and work stations and nerdy scientists geeking about, cutting into rats and making notes on their tablets. Except the tablets weren’t iPads, and the tools weren’t scalpels and syringes. Everything from the computer monitors to the medical equipment to the fucking water glasses were like something from a science fiction movie made in ancient Russia. Things I had never seen, things I couldn’t comprehend.
And, of course, there was the matter of the cephalopod aliens floating around.
“You holding up alright?” Steve asked.
I nodded, or rather, my head bo...
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