Game Lab Rats Novels & Stories

I started. Some started to plead to get out but I couldn't care less, my daughter lay dying in the hospital bed and im going to find out which of these ungrateful bastards put her there. “You must all be wondering what game this is, but it's called Find the Rat” I informed them. “Inside the house, with all your lovely self I have placed my lovely pet Verna, now if you look up you will see a camera so smile” I urged them. I motioned to the guard to bring the laptop and he placed it in front of me.

Mainly because it was meant to be used as a secondary to reinforce the cells that had the infected in them. Other than the cell for our newest addition, we had three other cells that contained an infected rogue. As well as a container filled with rats to continue breeding them, to use for our experiments. That cell was different since we divided it into two. One held healthy rats, while the other had infected rats. “I know and I accept the risks. I would like to move my cot here though.” He requested.

There weren’t any drunken brawls like I was used to, but instead secrets were spilled, and opinions were much more easily given. What information I gleaned about EleaCorp, the laboratory that employed nearly one hundred scientists dedicated to the issue of the rogue gene, was downright inspiring. A few of those scientists were here today, trading lab coats and goggles for gowns and tuxedos. Unsurprisingly, they were the least intoxicated of the bunch.

All the as yet unbeaten goblins, dragons, trees and zombies; they’re like sharks attracted to the smell of blood. Every single player, including Kazel_123 (who’s currently cowering in a patch of tall grass behind Ecto), has two tiny bars above their heads. Mrs. Lapuz figured those out earlier as “health meters”. Relative to the high-intensity and concentrated barrage Ecto is enduring, his health meter has only grown shorter by a quarter. Still, the decrease is there. It’s happening steadily like a slowly burning cigarette. Mrs. Lapuz types frantically on the keyboard:

“True, but like chickenpox, we would give a watered-down version to werewolves at strategic points in their lives. 1 year, 5 years, 13 years, when they shift at 18, and so on. The body will naturally build up a tolerance.” “Have you tested this theory on anyone yet?” Hunter asks. “My alpha wouldn’t let me test it on any warriors, but my lab partner and I did perform a couple of experiments on some lab rats on a smaller scale.” I say shyly. “And how did that go?” Hunter asks. I sigh. “Due to the molecular structure of the rats being different than werewolves, it didn’t affect them like it should have. Rats aren’t wolves. So, we had some anomalies in our numbers.”

When I came back to the dorm after dinner, Rachel and the others were already in the middle of the hallway, starting on the fondue. The moment I stepped inside, an intense, rich smell hit the back of my throat. As if fondue weren’t enough, Rachel was actually grilling patties over charcoal in a cramped dorm room. Did she not care about carbon monoxide poisoning? When she saw me, she put on a fake look of surprise. "Oh wow, silly me, I totally forgot to invite you, Lila!"

As I ventured deeper, a low growl echoed through the tunnels, a guttural symphony that hinted at the presence of something far more ominous than the shadows. Suddenly, from the darkness emerged a horde of rats, their eyes glinting with an unsettling intelligence that transcended the natural order. These were no ordinary rodents; their size rivaled that of dogs, and their fur, matted and bristling, added to their grotesque appearance. My gaze locked onto their gnashing teeth, each rodent a harbinger of the unnatural lurking in the subterranean labyrinth. The rats moved with a collective precision, a predatory dance that echoed through the damp tunnels. Their tails whipped the air, leaving a t

“Have a seat. I’m sure you all know why you’re here.” They didn’t speak, but the stiff nods were answer enough. “There are rats in NovaCore,” I began, “Some have been there for a while, and some are relatively new. But all of them are getting too bold for their own good.” The room suddenly became eerily quiet as they all looked at me with brooding gazes.

Nathan’s voice was already fading as he mobilized his resources. As I drove, I could only see red. It was still a miracle that I hadn't driven into another car by now. Laziel shifted in his seat, his eyes wide with understanding, connecting the dots that I had just painfully laid out, “The dead rats… the message… it was him, wasn’t it? It was just a game and he was toying with her.” His voice was a low growl, laced with venom.

Our chief of security assured me that breaking into our labs was next to impossible, but it didn't help dispose of the restlessness inside me. A few more days had passed, and we had another reason to celebrate. We cured our lab rats, and although none of them had a disease as problematic to treat as cancer, we could now officially declare that our method passed the second stage. We had our little party inside the laboratory right after reading the final test results. The next day, Callan took me on another date so we could celebrate my success—just the two of us.