“Alright, you finish all the training videos?”

The schlubby security officer cleared his throat with a wet rasp, tugged at his ill-fitted pants, and thumbed toward a dusty beige computer system that hadn’t been updated since the ’70s.

“That's your station. Just sit there and push a few buttons if another guard walks by. There hasn't been one of them suits or eggheads that's come down this deep in decades. No one gives a shit, so take it easy.”

The room matched his claim: cracking orange tiles, peeling wood paneling, and puke-green carpets, their stains hopefully just coffee. It would be difficult to blame a person if they thought they had traveled fifty years or more back in time while exploring the underground bowels of CSR Labs. The security officer spat into a nearby trash bin before slapping his fat palm against a large window labeled 'CS-709' in flaking yellow block letters behind the ancient computer station.

“Watch through here.”

He snorted and swallowed.

”Boring broad, only good for an eyeful, barring you don’t mind your girls being total freaks.”

The man chuckled at his own vulgarity and leaned in to look through the window. Inside was what some may argue was a woman, but what most would consider an obscenity of the female form. She was a haunting fusion of human and something far more eldritch. An elongated, nude, ink-black body stretched across the grime-encrusted tiles of the containment chamber floor. Her arms and torso retained an eerie femininity, but her neck stretched and twisted grotesquely, as though her very bones had liquefied. The creature's lilting neck turned its hanging head towards the window, its dimly glowing white eyes focusing on the one-way glass, somehow aware she was being watched this very moment.

“Well, see ya.”

The schlub hitched his sagging pants and waddled down the hall. Thirty minutes after he left, a deep rumble shook from above, sending decades of dust drifting from the ceiling. A brownout was next, fluorescent lights dimming, followed by their complete failure. Without power, the miles of underground CSR Lab tunnels were swallowed by absolute darkness. Screams and gunfire erupted upstairs—the sound of men dying. A dreadful red glow bathed the corridors as emergency lighting flickered to life. A dreadful curiosity demanded a look inside the grotesque woman's prison.

The chamber was empty.

From deeper down the halls, frantic, wet limbs slapped against the walls, growing louder with each passing second.