FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

She keeps the humanoid appearance, but the skin she wears is not of any kind of human anyone would think to see. The skin, where visible in the black outfit, is a dark gray, designed to blend in with the environment. Her eyes are her own eyes, sharp and more responsive when the time for quick glances were needed. The hair hangs down in long black strands, making her to be some fell creature from the shadows. Perhaps, that is what she is. After all, she read the doctor’s letter. Is she really who she thought she was? Or is she just the byproduct of manipulation, from conception to adulthood. Her own natural talents in her blood and venom are the main ingredient for some master plan, and her skill at crafting and wearing these disguises like a glove, are they really all that natural? No. As she slinks her way towards a man hole cover just past the parking lot, she knows that she’s exactly what her Uncle wanted her to be—a weapon. A monster. She hoists the lid off with a quick tug and places it down carefully before she hops on inside.

Deep in the dank darkness, Arya slinks up against the walls, finding a chemical dumping tube that would lead her into the belly of the beast. But she knows it’s dangerous. It could possibly destroy her false skin and maybe even erode her own. But it’s either this, or facing the more highly-protected entryways. She reaches into her sneaking bag, filled with all the tricks that she needs and pulls out a pair of goggles and a gas mask. Hopefully, they hold out for as long as they need to, or else, she would be in trouble. She grabs the edge of the tube. As she gets herself situated, chemicals pour down over her face and her body, but she doesn’t let that stop her from bringing up her legs and bracing herself against either side. Though liquid pours out over her, drenching her in the stuff, she braces her shoulders and her feet against the walls and uses that brace to slowly, painstakingly push her way up.

Even in this unfamiliar form, Arya is able to climb her way up agonizingly slow. Luckily, whatever this is, it isn’t corrosive, her gas mask holds up nice enough against the fumes. However, she mistimes a step, and one foot slips down. She catches herself, but not before throwing her head forward right under a cascade of liquid. Arya pulls back in reflex, but she drags her mask across the side of the tube, dislodging it from her mouth.

The pungent odor of chemicals rushes up into her exposed mouth and nose. There’s a faint familiarity there, yet she cannot quite place it as her head spins in dizziness. She fights back the urge to cough and instead wills herself to push onward and upward.

With her lungs and throat burning, Arya grabs onto the very edge of the pipe, hoisting her drenched self over the edge and rolling onto the catwalk beyond. She tears off the contaminated mask and stares up at the industrial-lit ceiling, catching her breath with great big heaves. Her legs burned, and her lungs tingle from inhaling the fumes. Now that she is out of immediate danger, that familiarity in the back of her mind spreads throughout her, reminding her where that taste comes from. It has been with her since as long as she can remember.

It’s sharper, much more potent, but there’s no doubt that it’s her venom—they’re mass producing it, and there’s no doubt that it is ready to be used for some nefarious means. Maybe even on Jay!

But there is more to it than that. The dim lights burn with a bright haze as she looks up at them, and as she tries to pull herself up, the world around her shakes and rolls, curling in on itself, as if she was staring through some warped mirror. Some kind of psychotropic element was added or enhanced in her venom—so much so that it even affects her!

“Yeah, I think I heard something over here,” A voice said.

Arya stands tall, staring off to the distance. The walkway curls up in her vision, threatening to swallow her, but even then, she notices the two figures walking closer. She grabs the railing and hops over to the other side, away from the pipe. Instincts kick in and she crawls along the ground, passing through distorted pipes, going over and under ice cold and scalding hot plumbing, but soon, the dizziness is too much for her and she collapses, huffing and panting as she tries to keep herself from spilling out the contents of her lunch.

Above her, footsteps make their way across the room, and she can make out the words coming from them, like faint echoes from a distant memory. “Yeah, did you hear that?”

“Nah, man. I think the fumes are getting to ya.”

“Why did we have to get this crappy job. I wanna rough up the rat.”

“Jay,” Arya hisses, grabbing onto one of the pipes above her.

“Eh, well, there ain’t nothing here,” he says. “Wanna go and see what the Doctor’s up to with that rat?

Heh, why not?” the other guard said, and their boots stomp off ahead.

Arya squeezes herself tightly as she slinks through the underneath, listening out for their footfalls as she follows them. Soon, very soon, she’ll know where Jay is. She just hopes she can think of a good plan once she does find him. But, a plan for what? Escape? Sabotage? Thing have only become more complicated from here on out.