Chapter 2: C: The Vault’s Grip

👉 Previous Decision: You chose Option C – Refuse the sweep entirely and force your way into the restricted B-Wing surgical vault immediately.

“Absolutely not.” Clara’s voice was sharp, echoing in the sterile decontamination chamber. She fixed Dr. Silas Avery with a glare through the glass. “I refuse the sweep. I need to know what’s in that vault, now.”

Dr. Avery’s mild expression hardened. “Nurse Barrett, you are in a restricted facility. Non-compliance is not an option.”

Clara ignored him. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the adrenaline coursing. She saw the heavy, circular door to the B-Wing surgical vault, just a few yards down the corridor outside the chamber. Its steel gleamed under the harsh lights.

With a determined lunge, Clara slammed her palm against the chamber’s emergency exit panel. The seal gave way with a pneumatic sigh, the door sliding open. She burst out, her scrubs flapping.

“Stop her!” Avery’s voice boomed over the intercom.

Two burly security guards, who had been lounging by a distant monitor, sprang into action. They moved with alarming speed, their black uniforms a blur. Clara managed three steps towards the vault door.

One guard tackled her low, sending her sprawling onto the polished floor. Her head hit the linoleum with a dull thud. The other guard twisted her arms behind her back.

Dr. Avery stepped out from his observation room, his face impassive. He crouched beside her, a strange, calculating glint in his eyes. He picked up the discarded pocket notepad she’d been clutching.

“Uncooperative, indeed,” he murmured, flipping through the pages. “Perhaps a new candidate for Subject Eight. We always have room for… research.”

A sharp prick in her neck was the last thing Clara felt before the world dissolved into darkness, not the memory-dampening fog, but a complete, induced oblivion.