The strong aroma of animal feces was the first scent to hit my nostrils.

Covering my mouth with a sweaty palm, I gagged while in virtual darkness as my foot snagged on what felt like a stool. The sound of its scrap against flooring caused me to freeze in anticipation of my arrest, my capture. When nothing happened other than the continual sounds of howling and the slam of metal, my heartbeat leveled and I persisted on.

The temperature felt colder, as if all the warmth had been extracted from the space. My eyes tried to adjust in the darkness, but thankfully as I stepped further inside I could see the start of the room's scarce beams of light up ahead.

One hand waved instinctively out into the open space, like a guide leading me on my path. The other palm blindly searched for my phone while my brain suffered the assault from past recollections. Memories of Mom tucking me in, my parents' laughter during dinner, the joyful expression upon her face as she watched me open presents on Christmas day caused me to reconsider my actions.

However, as quickly as they formed was as swiftly as those reflections altered. It triggered thoughts of BioGene's influence, the long hours, the fights beyond my parents' bedroom door, the strain on our relationship, and yet still I wavered...

The grip tightened around my cellphone with my thoughts centered around Ashley's claim, "It's her, isn't it? You're scared of your mom."

I don't fear my mom. I'm scared for her. What consequences will she face when this comes to light?

A sorrowful bellow pierced my ears. Its melody was so wretched that its sound caused the constriction of my heart, produced the moisture that blinded my view. Its tone was so poignant that all sentimentality aimed toward my mother instantly dissipated. Outrage nourished my courage, and with the earlier vision of my mother's order of disposal still fresh in my mind, I hit the record button.

"My name is Kara Harlow, daughter of the illustrious Dr. Allison Harlow."

My footsteps were silent, and yet the sound of suffering was undeniable as I eased further into the room. There was no natural light, only the sparse illumination from hanging fixtures above my head. The space was now lined with rows of cages, some prisons were too small to hold its residents. Excrement lined the base of many enclosures, its texture fused into fur and open sores.

And I recorded it.

I had to capture it all.

"My mother works for the heartless company, BioGene Pharmaceuticals," I quoted in verbatim of my practiced speech. With my camera aimed at the rows of metallic chambers, I crept toward the first aisle. "And these are the conditions they force animals to endure."

I filmed rabbits that cowered, cats that trembled, and stationary rodents yet to be disposed of. Some cried out, placed disfigured paws up against the gated rods while others simply sat with soulless eyes that watched my figure closely.

Mom, what have you done?

That moisture trickled from the edges of my sight, for I wanted to release them all from their confinements. I wanted to free every encaged soul. However, with a heavy heart, logic triumphed over emotion and I compelled myself to move on.

My footsteps somehow brought me to that same black puppy. From behind silver bars, it watched my approach with an emotionless, oddly distrustful gaze. Its small head tilted to the right, its tongue exposed as it panted.

Clearing my throat until it was free of sentiments, I stated, "I watched this animal, personally, be injected with some unknown virus. It cried out in protest, and yet it was only held down by the respectable BioGene employees."

Focused on the animal in front of me, I didn't notice the blood that stained the empty enclosures around me. I paid no mind to the bent wiring, the residual pieces of skin that lied along the bottom of several cages.

My knees bent to have a closer shot of this tortured being. Leaning in, through the view of my camera lens, I realized quickly that the brown in its eyes was becoming extinguished by a black hue. Its limbs began to jerk as bones grew and skin expanded. It was only as its jaw opened to allow room for its elongated teeth that I took notice of the empty cages next to it.

I turned back to the mutated monstrosity when it began to viciously strike the cage like the rabbit had previously. The only difference with this occurrence was that this creature's force bent metal. Broken steel spokes dug painfully into its skin as the hole expanded, and yet it persisted to ram against the surface.

The continuous growth of its physique was like something from a horror story.

Then, indistinctly beyond that repeated thump, there was a noise...

I recognized that sound.

It triggered the dread that crawled along my spine, the trail that escaped the haze  that gathered along the rim of my eyes. It generated the ascent of tiny hairs along the surface of my skin, for my senses told me that the monster that lay before me wasn't my biggest threat.

Although my mind screamed for me to do the opposite, with limbs that quaked, my head slowly shifted to my right.

A shaky camera captured the sight of two growling animals crouched mere inches from my paralyzed figure. They were fully formed beasts three times the size of an average dog. Patches of fur were detached, and in its place, were exposed infected flesh that continued to peel off as they tore into the chest of a lab assistant.

Instinct told me to flee, the sound of the continued transformation of the beast beside me urged my body to move, and yet I couldn't.

There wasn't much flesh left along the man's torso. Snapped bone remained along with torn muscle while portions of intestines floated in a puddle of blood. A gentle wheeze was all that could be heard as he choked on his own fluids. I took a measured step back, my eyes glued to the horrific scene, just as the phone slipped from my fingers.

Its screen cracked on impact.

Pained eyes rose toward me while the heads of his attackers repeated his actions. Blood and tattered human muscle gushed from muzzles and teeth.

"Oh, my god..." was all I could manage.

Genetic fiends arched dilapidated figures while blood soaked lips mastered his final words, "Run."