Some old writing from 2006! Here's a short story I did for Project LAYHR back in the day that I don't think I ever posted anywhere online! I did subject my entire creative writing class to it, though. This actually isn't the final draft, because I had to make changes I wasn't happy with, and I liked parts of this one better. Sorry for any formatting errors, the original file seems a bit corrupted.

Project LAYHR was basically a great big experiment in genetic engineering, and in creating an almost sentient species fully in a lab. (The people who made them didn't realize how smart they were- layhr can understand human speech, just aren't capable of it themselves. They are, however, very clever and capable of problem solving, when they want to be.)
Bunch of test-subject sparkledogs created and raised in a lab, and one subject's daring escape attempt. (Eighteen can be found here!)

It's a little goofy and a tiny bit dark in that 2006 sparkledog kind of way. Story does reference testing on animal subjects, but doesn't go into detail.
--

Paws struck hard against the cold floor of the hallway as the Layhr known only as Eighteen ran, the sounds of pursuit gaining from several halls back.
A long, ribbed ear flicked up and back, estimating the where and the how far- judging now to be the perfect time for a detour she shot left, careening down a side hallway and around the corner, out of view. This place was a maze and she knew it; a maze with no exit, but any number of shortcuts to get you absolutely anyplace inside that nowhere. And that, for right now, was more than enough.

She could hear distant footsteps, and the yelling to alert others.
Apparently the technicians didn't like it when you managed to get them tripped up over their own two feet, sending them tumbling into the metallic rolling janitorial carts that occasionally lined the outer halls. Who knew?
She continued on her run, past the elevators, and past several numbered rooms. Metal doors and solid floors, all underneath the same mounted fluorescent lighting; they all blended into each other after a while. Mounted floor directories did little good when your eye-level was between someone's knee and waist. Finding any specific area wasn't what it was about in the first place, though, and that wasn't why she did it. She was content merely with the opportunity to stretch her legs out to the fullest, and let the breeze from her own running brush through the pastel-whorled patterns in her fur, sending golden mane-strands flying.
In this sense, her little expeditions always met their goal; and so even when she skidded round the corner right into a containment officer's pant leg, limbs tumbling and flailing in an effort to re-adjust her path, she wasn't too terribly disappointed. A surprising turn of events, one might say, but not completely
unexpected. Eighteen snapped at the offending leg as she felt the sharp bite of the dart in her shoulder, earning little more than a mouthful of unwashed fabric for her trouble as she slumped, limbs sprawling across the floor in a rush to greet unconsciousness.

--

A gradual, incessant murmuring greeted her return to the waking world.
It was familiar, even if the words themselves weren't- the background noise of the kennel room where the others were kept. It acted as place of respite, of socializing, and of rumor mill; there was constantly discussion or stories being told, be it from two kennels over or across the room. It wasn't as if there was much else to do, here.

"I said, are you up yet? Hellooooo? Eighteen?"

The voice to her left repeated itself, had she missed it the first time? The best she could respond with at the moment was a slightly-dazed 'huhr?', meriting an amused rumble from the speaker.

"About time, I've been trying to get your attention for ages. What was that all about? Up to your same old tricks, I see."

She shook her head to clear it, taking a few moments to gather her thoughts. Lips finally curled back into a fangy grin, however drowsily, to respond in kind.

"I do have a reputation to keep."

Extending long digits and claws into as best a stretch she could manage, and curling long, muscular tufted-tail around her side, Eighteen sidled up to the grate comprising the front of her cramped quarters. Though it wasn't usually a problem, for someone still half-asleep voice alone wasn't always enough to pinpoint who you were next to; considering sight was out of
the question (one could only see the opposing side of the room from this vantage point, never the kennels adjacent to them), catching a scent was the best identifier one could rely on. Ahh, hmm, familiar... must be Sixteen speaking. His company was enjoyable, though she'd always considered him a bit of a weird one. From what she knew, he apparently had some strange,
kleptomaniacal fascination with the sharp tools, scalpels, and other dangerous objects their keepers often wielded. Not surprisingly, the only time she'd actually seen him, being led in front of her space and back to his own, his tawny paws were covered in wrapped bandages. To each their own, she guessed; at least he was friendly to converse with.

"So tell me, did you find anything interesting? Bring back any intriguing stories to share?"

"Not this time, I'm afraid. Today's run was rather short-lived." Her white-glow eyes closed slightly, half-lidded in thought. Generally, if one had nothing new to share, one listened to the stories of the others, possibly joining in discussion. Maybe next run would be more productive. She perked her ears at the gruff response coming from her right.

"Don't see why you're so intent on stirring up trouble. Never leads to anything good."

"...and why do you say that?"

"You remember what happened with Two. After what he did. No one's seen or smelled him since." It was an old story, often brought up during discussions. Any single one of them knew it to some degree; the tale had become very nearly legendary. The first Layhr to act out against their creators; the only Layhr to take any of them down. The speaker paused, before adding rather proudly, "They say the hallways flowed crimson, with all the blood of those he killed."

Eighteen hardly thought a bit of harmless mischief could be comparable to such an act; but before she could respond, Sixteen rejoined the conversation.

“He only killed two.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there.”

“..No. But neither were you. I heard it from somebody who was.” Soft scuffling noises came from Sixteen’s kennel, no doubtedly him re-adjusting his position to get more comfortable. The older speaker from Eighteen’s right, as well as Eighteen herself, both took this information in quietly. It was one thing to hear a story carried on by word-of-mouth through who knew how many renditions; a completely different thing to have a possible first-hand account. When it became apparent that the bearer of this information wasn’t going to elaborate further unless prompted, the gruff voice started up again with great interest.

“Who?”

“…one of the technicians. I overheard him talking to another about it; guess he saw the whole thing.” Thunkthunkthunk, the sound of somebody trying to get at a scratch behind their ear in such closed quarters. “He sounded pretty upset over it. Figured he was next, but for some reason Two never even touched him.”

“…puh.” There was audible disdain, interest vanishing from the previous speaker’s tone upon finding who this information had been heard from. “Some source of information, you mean to tell me you heard it from some lousy technician?”

“Oh, come off it. For all their faults, you know they don't lie. Not in front of us, anyway." There wasn't much reason to, Eighteen silently added. Not when you thought your creations couldn't even understand you, let alone be smart enough to know what you were saying.

Pointed silence was their only response, showing without words that this particular topic was to be considered over. None of them said anything for a good several minutes, only half-focusing their attention on snippets of dialogue coming from other areas of the room.

After a time, a new voice joined in tentatively, speaking from the kennel below. Unfamiliar, and much younger sounding than the previous ones.

"...I heard... there were monsters living somewhere here. Issit true?"

The speaker to Eighteen's right scoffed, impatient that the 'conversation' topic had now been granted to some youngster. "The only monsters here are the ones you see every day, in the white coats."

"No, that's not what I mean. I- someone said you can hear them, sometimes, if you're on a lower floor. Sounds like screaming."

"If there were monsters here, let alone screaming ones, don't you think the humans would have found them already and taken care of-"

"Who said this?"

There was a brief pause, during which one could easily imagine the glare Eighteen was getting from the older Layhr for interrupting him. It was the kind one could feel, even through the solid metalplate walls. Quietly, the younger one responded.

"...Thirteen."

"What? And you believed him? Don't listen to that one, he's full of himself." Sixteen chimed in before either of the other two could respond, though the older one grumbled in agreement. At this the youngest fell silent; even if he had anything else to bring up, given his story 'sources' it wasn't likely he'd be listened to.

Eighteen had been so caught up in the group conversation, she hadn't even noticed two of the technicians enter the room, starting to make their rounds. It wasn't until she caught the mixed scent of anger and fear coming from across the room that she looked up, attentively trying to figure out who it was coming from. This happened, sometimes; with all the tests, all the
chemicals they were subjected to, even the most mild-mannered Layhr could be brought to the edge, pushed to their mental limit of tolerance. The scent was a warning sign that the humans never seemed to catch, yet one that had every other creature in the room paying immediate attention. It was slightly frustrating to Eighteen; they must be on the same side of the room that her kennel was. She couldn't see what was going on.

She was distracted from her thoughts as a shadow fell across her own space, latch and lock clinking quietly as the technician in front of her kennel opened the door. .....oh. She must be on today's roster. Wonderful. She shot a baleful glare forward as one gloved hand reached for the scruff of her neck, syringe containing some dose of unknown chemical in the other.

"Oh, somebody is certainly lucky today~" Eighteen's ears flattened, and she cast a sidelong glance of annoyance towards the speaker of the comment.
It wasn't as if she particularly minded this possibility; though the effects of some of the chemicals could be far from pleasant, she could have been in for much worse. A sudden snarl from her far right caught attention of both Layhr and technician alike.

"Don't touch me! I swear, I'll tear your fucking face off!" The sound of a startled yell, and a sudden slam as something hit the ground; the technician let go of her fur, task forgotten as he rushed to help his coworker. Eighteen moved quickly forward to peer out from around the still-open kennel door, watching chaos unfold along with about sixty other pairs of eyes, all focused intently on the same thing. The anger-fear smell was even stronger now, and she could finally see who it was coming from; it seemed as though the Layhr had caught his technician by surprise, lunging forward and knocking the man to the floor. The other technician, the one Eighteen had been dealing with, had raced over; he was now trying his best to subdue the
angry creature, and keep him from (as the aforementioned Layhr had so eloquently put it) 'tearing the technician's fucking face off'. In all the commotion, it took her a moment to shift focus from the fight to the fact that her own opportunity was staring right at her; and with only two technicians in the room, both currently occupied, she planned to make full use of it.

Her lithe body jumped to the floor agilely, claws tapping on the scuffed tile. She cast a wary glance once more towards the struggle before bolting to the door, nudging it open with her shoulder and quickly slinking out unnoticed. She slunk closely along the wall down the hallway, moving as low to the ground as her long legs would allow, and as quietly but quickly as possible. The hall was empty now, but she was more than ready to wager that with all the noise coming from within the kennel room, it wouldn't remain that way for long.

--

Eighteen skirted the edges of the hall, now cautiously checking the next corridor before suddenly turning any corners. Wouldn't be making that mistake again.
Not far from the kennels, she stumbled across an open room, a walk-through; medium-sized, and with open doors at either end, she had never quite been able to figure out its purpose. Though, it had been quite some time since she'd last seen it... swishing her long, mane-tipped tail thoughtfully, she figured it couldn't hurt to check it out once more. Not to mention, being in a room gave her much better chances of avoiding anyone that might be wandering the halls. The Layhr cast a curious glance around as she entered, not spotting anything too terribly different from the last time at first, until...

Her hackles rose, and she stared with wide, faintly glowing eyes at the new display, a bleached-white Layhr skeleton, articulated with wire and standing as its owner once had during life. It stood, proudly mounted on a square metal base and supported by slender metal rods, against a background of various posters, each illustrating various internal systems and functions. Eighteen had stopped dead in her tracks, silently taking in this symbol of mortality with an uneasy gaze.
Though she had never seen the bones of her own kind bleached and strung together so cleanly and neatly as this was, she still knew perfectly well what it represented, what it meant. Raising a paw in trepidation, she slowly paced over to where the mounted skeleton stood, wondering... Was this anyone she had known? Thinking back to the various 'last times' she had seen any particular other Layhr in the labs, she couldn't help but shudder. It was only with great hesitation that she put pastel paws gently on the metal base, lowering her head to see if there was a familiar smell. Nostrils flared as she inhaled the scent of peroxide-bleached bones and metal holdings; no luck. Whatever chemicals they had used on it, aside from stripping away flesh and fur, had also stripped away any trace of the original owner.

Eighteen jumped a good foot in the air at a soft, quietly-spoken voice behind her. It was a wonder she didn't flat out bolt from the room.

"We'll all look like that, someday."

She whipped her maned head around to see who had snuck up behind her, only mildly relieved to find another Layhr staring back at her.
Thirteen. Not the most settling of countenances to view, right now; some bony mutation had formed around his face, granting top jaw, face, and back to his curling ears a jeering facade much resembling that of the skull belonging to the skeleton on the stand. Black horns twisted out from underneath his shaggy orange mane, framing black fur and falling over glowing-greenfire eyes that watched her from underneath false sockets.

"What are you doing here?" Eighteen tried to compose herself, still slightly shaken not only from her discovery, but from being startled as well.

"I could ask the same of you."

That was a fair enough response, though not a particularly informative one; how had someone as noticeable as Thirteen managed to not only sneak out from wherever he had been, but avoid being seen? She, at least, had had a well-timed bit of chaos and luck on her side; she didn't recall him being in the same kennel room at the time, though. And in her mind, at least, pastel-patterned fur stood out far less against the faded walls than his coloration did.

"Why haven't you been spotted yet..?"

"No one notices a ghost." Thirteen raised his head, muzzle curled back as best it could into a smirk at the question. Ahh... no wonder the others refused to listen to him.

"You aren't a ghost." Her shakiness was past, now; Eighteen flicked one long, ribbed ear in irritation.

"How can you be sure?"

"You don't smell dead."

"Maybe I just haven't started rotting yet."

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause at this point, in which Eighteen decided that a particular tuft of fur on her ankle could use a good grooming. Deciding she'd had enough of Thirteen's morbid sense of humor she turned, glancing towards the door opposite the one she'd entered from.

"Then, if you'll excuse me, I think I should be going. I don't associate with skeletons."
She was purposefully vague as to whether she meant the mounted thing in the corner or him, pacing quietly from the room without looking back. Within moments of exiting she heard human footsteps approaching the room from the other side, shouts of sudden surprise sounding as whoever it was presumably saw Thirteen, standing right in the middle of the floor. So much, Eighteen thought, for being an unspottable ghost.

Not wanting to be anywhere near the room now that Thirteen had drawn attention to himself, Eighteen again started her quick pacing down the hallways. It was getting more difficult now; there were some corners she couldn't turn, some rooms she was afraid to pass due to the increasing number of people milling about. Though the technicians in the room had more likely
than not been able to manage the rogue Layhr on their own, with the discovery of Thirteen wandering the halls, it was only a matter of minutes before containment officers started scouring the area as well; and those Eighteen definitely wanted to avoid.

--

Several hallways and multiple closed-doors later, the young Layhr had found herself in a bit of a spot. She had reached one of the small alcoves where the elevators lie, and had planned on turning the corner when, from one of the rooms down the next hallway, she had heard two voices. Not just voices, but the clicking that accompanied a handle being turned, door
swinging open almost weightlessly on well-greased hinges. This wouldn't have been so much of a problem if not for the fact that, coming from somewhere down the opposite hallway (and her only means of backtracking), was the sound of footsteps gradually drawing nearer. No matter which way she turned, it seemed as though she was going to risk an encounter with some technician, scientist, or security patrol.

"You got that alright?" Voice number one, coming from inside the room around the corner.

"Yeah, Carl, I got it. Thanks."

"Need me to get the elevator for you or anything?"

"Nah, just the door was enough. I can handle it."

"Alright, if you say so."

Only one set of footsteps started moving away from the room; that was slightly better than two, but it still meant Eighteen would need to be ready to act. Voice number two was heading straight for the alcove, and there was nothing in the open space she could use to hide behind. Crouching low to the ground, she got ready to spring past whomever it was; it made more sense to her that, were she going to run, she make some bit of progress rather than backtrack where she'd already been. Muscles tensed and claws splayed, she waited... waiiiiited...

The person who turned the corner, rather than reacting in surprise, shock, or yelling, didn't even notice her. How could he, with a stack of boxes piled in his arms, towering very nearly above the level of his eyes? Eighteen paused, staring curiously at the spectacle making his ever-so-awkward way towards the elevator doors, barely managing the carefully balanced load. Seemed she had less to worry about in terms of the unknown voices than she'd thought. The man in front of her did his best to turn sideways, nudging the down-arrow elevator call button with one elbow. He was no threat. There was still the matter of the footsteps approaching from the hallway behind her, though; not to mention the owner of the first unknown voice. He had stepped into the hallway now, too; though from the sound of things, he was just milling about. Still, the thought of having to run past either set of footsteps wasn't that appealing. Being spotted meant a rapid end to her excursion, and if there were any way to avoid it... As the elevator door dinged open, she thought of a third option.

--

Inside the elevator, barely a few feet away from the man carrying boxes, and he hadn't even noticed her. Absolutely amazing. Eighteen had slunk in after him, carefully avoiding his feet and making sure to stick just behind him in case he could somehow see anything past those boxes. The way she figured it, going down either hallway meant definitely being spotted; this was just a strong chance. Risky, but better odds than the other two directions. She watched him, yet again, awkwardly attempt to use his elbow to press buttons; it was an amazing feat of shifting his own weight and redistributing that of the boxes, but somehow he'd managed it. He spent most of the ride leaning against one wall, vision completely obstructed by his cargo.

Eighteen had only been in an elevator a few, short times; but she did know one important fact regarding it. Wherever you got off it would be a different place than where you got on. She was counting on this fact to find her a place that wasn't two blocked corridors. After a few more moments, something inside the small room dinged; the man shifted his weight one more time, stepping towards the door as it opened. Eighteen cautiously peered past his legs and into this new hallway.

"Hey, you need any help with that?"

What, no! No, that wasn't fair, there wasn't supposed to be someone standing right in front of the elevator! The voice came barely two feet from the side past the open doors, at an angle where Eighteen couldn't see who was speaking.

"No, I'm okay. Thanks though." Man with the boxes stepped out, and she could see the second pair of legs step into view, now. And if she could see him, that meant that he would be able to see...

"...Hey! Is this some joke? Those things aren't allowed on this floor!"

"Whu..?"

In the confusion, Eighteen did the only thing she could think to do- she mashed buttons. More precisely, she'd jumped up on the side paneling, pawpads hitting several of the little colored squares she'd seen the man press earlier. She had no idea what any of them did, specifically; but anything was worth a try once. Luck was on her side, considering the man with the boxes was standing right in the way of the one who'd started to yell upon sighting her; the doors slid closed and the elevator started downward again before anything could be done.

It didn't have many floors to go before stopping, having gone as far as the shaft ran. The facility was constructed, at least as far as the lab areas went, primarily underground, and the last stop had been one of the lower-most floors. Eighteen had reached the lowest level, the very 'basement' of the building itself.
The elevator door dinged open and she stood, cautiously peering out into this new area, hoping there weren't any people waiting right outside like the last stop. She didn't see anyone around, but even more than that... the smell here was different. The human scent was faint, old; it didn't seem as though people came down here very often, or very recently. The chemical smell, always prevalent to some degree in the labs, was also much stronger, mixed with an ever-pervasive smell of dank, damp surroundings, water somewhere. There was also the barest hints of some unidentifiable scent, lingering unplaceably on the edges of Eighteen's mind, elusive. A metal placard was bolted to the wall opposite the elevator, etched with human writing she couldn't understand.
Long Term Chemical Storage (left), Water Treatment Facility (right).
Arrows pointing in opposing directions under them; she paid it no mind. Stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway, she slunk carefully along, close to the wall. Something seemed different here, if for no other reason than a lack of 'people'; though equally strange was the fact that this hallway was a single-strip dead-end, each side ending only in a door and no extra corridors along it. Eighteen lowered her head, snuffling curiously at the lower edge of the door on the far right side. The dank smell was even stronger from here, mixed with other scents she couldn't quite recognize, but still no people. It seemed as good a place as any to explore.

Unless they were locked or round-handled, doors posed little problem for Eighteen. She tried shouldering it open as she had back in the kennels to no luck; she looked up to see if there were any handles that needed pressing. Ah, it was one of those with the bar across it... leaning up on her haunches, she jumped at that with her front paws, falling back to all fours as the door swung forward slightly; it was a heavy door, and the kind that didn't like to stay where you'd pushed it, and she could hear it shut behind her after she'd entered the next area.

Ah, ah, this area was very different from what she was used to. The lighting was, for one thing, very dim; being so used to the well-lit areas of the lab, she almost didn't recognize the faint glow coming from her own eyes, reflecting off the ground. She tried to think if she remembered any mention of this place through rumor or otherwise with no luck; wherever this was, it
was a good bet it wasn't someplace the majority, or even any significant minority, of them knew about. As she turned the next corner, she was in for an even bigger surprise. Though the low lighting kept her from seeing to the very extent of this place, once she'd passed from that narrow hallway, the entire area opened up into a massive, almost cavernous affair; stairwells led
down, and metal walkways extending to various other platforms. There were massive holding tanks scattered around various locations, and past one section of the very lowest ground level, she could swear she heard running water. There was more than one place where the only lighting came from several small, red lights mounted on the wall, dully shining from beneath
metal covers. This place... was incredible. Eighteen had never seen such a thing in the whole of her existence.

Long, muscular tail curled around her haunches in thought. Here it was, a place she'd never once set foot into; here it was, a place that seemed she wouldn't run into anyone. Even if the humans were able to guess what floor she'd landed on, it would be near impossible for them to find her in such a massive area; this was greater than any exploration or expedition she'd ever
held before. That was it, then; she started forward, walking tentatively at first, then with more confidence towards one of the downwards leading stairways. She sniffed curiously at the dank metal before stepping onto it, having never before encountered the scent of rust or mildew. Her claws scraped loudly against the metal stairs as she descended, eyes searching as far ahead as she could see in the dim lighting to scout out a path. There was an occasional soft clank if she stepped especially hard, but nothing too loud- these stairs were designed for things much heavier than herself.

At one point, when she was more than halfway down the second stairway, a resounding clang from one of the other stair areas sounded, startling her.
White-glow eyes widened, looking wildly about for the source of the noise.

"Helloooooo?" The sounds of Eighteen's voice echoed, something she wasn't used to. "Is... is somebody there?"

No response, and no more clanging. Perhaps it had been her own footsteps, the sound echoing back to scare her. Or perhaps it came from some bit of odd machinery that she hadn't noticed before. Regardless of the source, it left her feeling just a bit uneasy. She reached the bottom of the stairway, cautiously stepping onto cold concrete and looking around. Around the bottom of the stairway sat a few smaller, less hefty versions of the large holding tanks whose outlines she could barely make out in the shadowy distance. Metal grate platforms, and a discarded rolling cart; she became much more interested in what lay along the ground level, closer to those red lights. As she walked, that lingering smell of chemicals and unfamiliarity once more lingered at the edge of her subconscious.

As she got closer to the faint red glow, Eighteen was far better able to discern what lay ahead of her. There were, in fact, channeled grooves cut into the concrete; it was through these that the sound of running water came.
Long channels, coming from shadow and disappearing into shadow, stretched along a large portion of the floorway at the very edge of this massive
'room'. Towards the very fall wall were what appeared to be round 'corridors' branching off from the channels, leading into more shadow, entry blocked by metal grates that allowed water in but nothing else. Concrete platforms extended along the edges of some of the channels and some of the far wall, creating a narrow sort of walkway from area to area. Now, from this area, she couldn't see much of the stairway she'd come down earlier; now that seemed to be the section of the room cloaked in shadow. It was slightly disconcerting, but the concept utterly fascinated Eighteen. Even moreso did the water channels, some moving, some stagnant; she leaned over for a moment, surprised at the reflection of her own glow-eyes in the water's surface.

She spent several minutes that way, before a sudden shuffling on her left made her quickly turn, body at alert. Something, some creature... what was that? It was much larger than she was, easily three times her size. Her first thought, horrified, was that some poor, misshapen Layhr had found their way down here, disfigured horribly from some test gone wrong or chemical overdose. She tried to call out to it, find out what had happened.

"Who... w... what happened to you? Do you need help?"

But as more details came into focus, the less likely it seemed that this thing was one of her own; flat-skulled, and with a more 'delicate' muzzle, and though blank white eyes stared at her, there was none of the tell-tale glow. They barely even seemed focused, and one eye was blue-clouded, blind. It stared at her, ferally, unresponsive; her attempt at communicating went unanswered. A metal tag hung from one tattered ear, and near the creature's shoulder was what appeared to be some kind of wound, improperly healed; gunshot? It didn't happen very often, considering most of the lab's subjects were too expensive to be expendable, but Eighteen had heard enough of the rare occurrences to guess at what it was. Blackened, furless flesh extended slightly around it, dead; it smelled faintly of rot. The creature's limbs were misshapen, slightly uneven; some toes were larger than others, some claws had fused together into massive lumps of bone, while others remained sharp and intact. The ribs were easily visible beneath short fur spattered with mildew, and a row of spines, some broken, extended down
along its back. It was also maneless, cementing the idea in her mind that whatever this monster was, it had no ties to her kind.

Eighteen lowered her head, ears flattened against her skull; the creature lunged. Disjointed thoughts ran through her head as she darted to the right, just avoiding the creature's massive claws that struck down where she had been. Monsters, monsters, there are monsters down here... A loud, feral shriek, high-pitched and ear-splitting, sounded behind her, frustrated. The noise-pitch made her cringe, the high tone hurting her ears. She raced along the channel's edge, red glow illuminating the way as she searched for some way to escape whatever it was chasing her. The creature, not to be discouraged, made bounding steps towards her; she raced towards another stairwell, different from the one she'd come down. Some small, quiet train of
thought arose from the back of her mind: if she did somehow survive this and get back up to the safer floors, oh, would she have stories to tell.

The thought was cut short at the realization that the entry to this stairway was blocked. Some chainmetal gate had been secured over it, aging yellow caution tape strewn across the front. Dead-end. She turned, crouching instinctively as the monster approached, staring with wide eyes. It slowed its gait, unsure; turning to watch her with its good eye, it advanced towards her. Cornered, adrenaline rushing, instincts Eighteen didn't even know she had began to surface. As the creature closed in, there was a flurry of motion and last-ditch effort as Eighteen sprung forward, claws outstretched to rake at the monster's face. She hardly registered the fact that her claws caught on the metal tag in the creature's ear, causing it to tear free as the monster shrieked again. She landed, miraculously, on all fours; she caught sight of the tag on the ground beside her, etched not only with age, but with lettering. HYRN - Batch 34-A. More symbols she didn't understand. There was no time to ponder this, however; a hefty paw caught her in the side, slamming her furiously back towards the water channels. She landed with a yelp, winded; it took her a moment to stumble up, limping back towards the concrete walkways near the far wall. The only reason she'd even had that much time was thanks to the creature's sudden distraction; it spent a moment pawing at the new, shallow slashmarks across its face, a mixture of low growling and high-pitched keening at the pain from its newly torn ear.

It was only a few moments before it refocused its attention back on her, though. Eighteen cowered near one of the grates, trying to catch her breath; at this point she couldn't even wonder how to get back around it and up the stairs, instead focusing all her energy on the creature, to try and get out of its way if it lunged. Once more it approached, though this time more warily; the creature crouched down at the edge of the channel, muscles rippling underneath mildewed fur as it leapt towards her. The Layhr forced her aching body into action, splashing down into the channel waters on her right as she dodged; the creature missed its target by mere inches, slamming hard into the metal grate blocking one of the filtered channel corridors, knocking it askew. The resulting shriek of rage echoed strangely back at them from the depths of the waterway's corridors.

The water channel, thankfully, wasn't very deep; it only went up to Eighteen's armpit. The sudden shock of cold water helped her focus, struggling to stand straight and get away from the mutated beast only a few feet away. It was searching for her, good eye glancing furiously around as it tried to find where she landed; Eighteen crouched in the water, hoping as hard as she could to remain unnoticed for a few moments more. She saw her chance, now; spotting the opening in the grate, she made a mad rush towards it. It was narrow, barely wide enough for her to squeeze through; the monster beside her most certainly wouldn't be able to fit. Blind eye turned to her, she only just able to make it through before the creature turned, spotting her and lunging again at the grate with heavy paws. It did little good; even knocking the metal a few more inches over, the opening was still too small for it to get through. As Eighteen hurried to put as much distance between herself and the opening of the corridor she could hear it trying to stick its claws through, biting at the grate with misshapen teeth and a thorned tongue.
She let the sparse red lights and the faint glow from her own eyes light her path, shuddering briefly as another shriek rang through the corridors, bouncing and echoing off the walls.

Eighteen had no way of knowing that the corridor led away from the labs and into the city's own water systems, or even what a city was; all she knew was that she couldn't go back the way she came. She could only trudge forward, longing for the familiar and bright fluorescent lights of places where monsters didn't roam.