This wing of the laboratory would typically be cleaner than most hospitals. It had to be.

But currently, it’s not typical. Typical would be the metal walls, formed out of titanium plates bolted together. Long strip lighting along the ceiling, and occasional heavy, steel doors. If you hit a wall, you could hear the metal ring out for the entire length of the hallway. Some employees called it cold or sterile, but this place wasn’t built for recreation. Jobs had to be done here, and nobody else was going to do it in their place.

Hit the wall now, and you’ll find your arm stuck. Not because this hallway is badly built, it’s as good as any other. But because there’s pink mucus holding clinging onto it. If you ignore this mucus, you might notice there’s some other noise that would interrupt your wall bashing session. Heavy footsteps, and the rapid sound of gunfire.

That’s not typical either.

An employee heaves open the hallway door like his life depended on it, shutting it tightly behind him before continuing his run… or was it a retreat? His normally clean lab coat was torn to shreds, used to fill any gaps in his outfit that would reveal naked skin. His hands were wrapped with cloth along with his face, in the form of a makeshift mask. This didn’t seem to bother him, but neither did the hallway.

Before he could get to the other side, the door he had just shut was blasted open. Smoke seeped in from the empty doorway, with small shrapnel flying towards the employee. Ringing filled his ears, and he wasn’t able to hear what his words were. His hands were up and about, gesturing towards his covered body with as many words as hands could muster.

Ignoring his ramblings and gestures, fully armored people marched into the hallway in formation. With bulletproof armor covering every part of their body and a rifle in each of their hands, they wouldn’t be mistaken for regular employees. If you ignored that, you’d still have to look at their face. Covered in a gas mask with ears coming out the top fashioned to be reminiscent of rabbits, their black and orange outfits couldn’t be more distinct.

Their rifles were aimed square at the employee, and as the ringing faded from his ears, he still couldn’t speak. His voice didn’t work. He wasn’t scared. He was already dead. Pink spots on his cheeks would reveal why. The mucus had already gotten into his system somehow, his whole getup did nothing to help. Before a single shot could ring out, he disintegrated into a pile of pink slime, splashing over the floor and walls around him.

..

“I’m sure most of you have heard of the incident that occurred when a wing of the facility was taken over by pink slime…”

A tall scientist was projected onto a television, speaking to a room of employees at desks.

“If you know about that incident, you’ve also probably heard that the waste of the incident was disposed of as most of it had become inert…”

This room of the facility is cleaner than most hospitals. It has to be.

“It was discovered that an employee had uncovered the waste and kept it concealed for an extended period of time…”

Titanium plates bolted to the walls, strip lighting along the ceiling, and heavy steel doors made up the room.

“It’s with upmost regret that I must say the people without gas masks here weren’t passed over because of lack of stock…”

The hallway. It’s empty.

“… but because some of you are already infected.”

It’s clean.

“Those who have gas masks, you may look in your desks…”

And it will stay clean.

“Those are 9 millimeter pistols, fully loaded.”

Always clean.

“The doors are locked. I’m sure you all know what you must do”

Clean.