The first thing Rachel felt when returning to consciousness was an itch in the back of her right ear. It was such a random thing that she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. It was only when her eyelids fluttered open and she failed to recognize her surroundings that she realized something was wrong.
For starters, she was not on a bed, a sofa, or any other piece of comfortable furniture she could think of. Instead, she lay on a cold gurney, its surface unyielding against her skin. The sharp clang of metal rang in her ears as she shifted, but the movement was minimal; her arms and legs were strapped to the gurney, secured with thick leather bindings that seemed to constrict her like a snake coiling around its prey.
“What the fuck?” she thought, an appropriate response to her unexpected predicament. Panic flooded her thoughts as she attempted to thrash against her restraints, but all she could manage was a feeble wiggle of her neck and head. 
Above her, a transparent plastic dome encased her entire upper body, distorting the light around her into strange patterns of refracted colors. It was as if she lay inside an enormous bubble, suspended in a world that was both alien and surreal.
Her eyes scanned the room, absorbing every detail with frantic intensity. The walls were lined with an assortment of machinery, comprising flickering panels, and more knobs and levers than she had ever seen in her life - but that wasn’t the weird part.
Standing against the farthest wall were a series of glass containers. Inside each one floated various specimens suspended in a viscous liquid that shimmered like quicksilver.
Some held what appeared to be small, pulsating organisms - gelatinous blobs that changed color as they undulated in their transparent prisons. Others contained more recognizable shapes: severed limbs, disembodied heads, and even what looked like a fully-formed creature that resembled a fusion of bird and reptile, its scales glistening.
“What is this Frankensteinian nightmare?” she muttered.
The answer was to the right of the containers, where a steaming coffee mug bore the logo of GenExis, a renowned genetics company that had made headlines for its controversial experiments. The emblem, a stylized double helix entwined with an abstract representation of the Milky Way, gleamed with an unsettling vibrancy. It was a symbol of scientific ambition, but here it was like a mark of doom.
A tall woman approached, her silhouette cutting an imposing figure against the glowing backdrop of the room. She wore a pristine white lab coat that swished around her calves as she walked on impractical heels that would make about 80% of the feminine and populace trip and fall at every turn. A name tag pinned to her chest read “Dr. Evelyn Cross”.
Dr. Cross’s long, dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun that revealed sharp cheekbones and piercing green eyes, the kind that seemed to see right through Rachel. She exuded authority, her posture straight and confident but bordering on arrogance as if she were the queen of the world, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
“Good morning, Rachel,” Dr. Cross said, her voice smooth yet punctuated by a strange familiarity, as though she were greeting an old friend rather than a captive. She stepped forward, the click of her heels resonating like clock chimes in the sterile air. “How are you today?”
“Do we… do we know each other?” she stammered, her mind struggling to process the slew of unexpected developments unraveling before her. “What the hell is going on?”
Dr. Cross’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course we do,” she replied, tilting her head as if sizing Rachel up like one might appraise a piece of artwork. The right sleeve if her coat rolled upward just enough to reveal a glimpse of a titanium bangle with a red button embedded in it. “We’ve been friends for a very long time and now we’re making History together.”
“Friends? History?” Rachel blurted, trying to make sense of her words. “I don’t understand.”
“Ah, of course!” Dr. Cross said. “You’re experiencing disorientation, a common reaction in subjects after undergoing such an extensive procedure. If you don’t remember me, I take it you also don’t recall what you’re doing here, correct?”
“I don’t remember a thing… Tell me what’s going on!”
“It’s best if I show you. We suspected something like this might happen, so we prepared a recap video before you went under. One moment, please.”
Dr. Cross touched the bracelet on her wrist, the red button glinting under the overhead lights. A low hum filled the room. To Rachel’s astonishment, the dome enclosing her began to recede. The air grew warmer as the confines of her transparent prison faded away.
Then she reached for a pair of sleek black glasses perched on a nearby counter. They looked futuristic, with swirling patterns etched into the frame and lenses that seemed to ripple with energy. She held them with care as if they were something precious; something that could unlock secrets Rachel didn’t even know existed.
“Here you go,” Dr. Cross said as she positioned them over Rachel’s head. “These will help you remember the truth.”
As the glasses settled into place, Rachel felt an electric shiver race down her spine. The world blurred for a moment before snapping into focus, colors bursting into vivid life like fireworks igniting a night sky. She saw herself dressed in the same way as Dr. Cross, explaining that she was the head researcher of that facility, and that the time had come for Phase 2 of human trials. 
“What?” Rachel mumbled. Was that true? Was that her? As the video progressed, things got weirder and weirder.
In the next sequence, she was holding a jar containing an oozing creature that was like an eldritch version of a centipede. The bizarre animal had been
“uncovered at the site of a dormant volcano in Iceland,” Rachel explained. “Early analysis of its biology revealed it secretes a venom that inhibits free will. We’re still trying to figure out how it works and how to reproduce this substance, but all our experiments show great promise so far.”
Moving on, Rachel explained that they had succeeded in synthesizing a version of the venom. However, it was ineffective unless it was bonded with another lifeform, almost like a parasite in a symbiotic relationship with its host.
“We tried various approaches,” Dr. Cross declared, “but none worked. It was then you had the idea of grafting a piece of the creature to the subject and see where things progressed from there.”
“I did?” Rachel said, bewildered. 
“Yes,” Dr. Cross affirmed with an almost predatory excitement. “You proposed a radical procedure, one that would allow us to harness the creature’s power in a way no one had ever dared to consider. We were all hesitant, but you… you convinced us.”
The video continued, and Rachel watched herself standing before a panel of skeptical scientists, defending her unorthodox methods. She spoke with fervor about the potential applications: military dominance, psychological control, even the possibility of curing debilitating mental illnesses by rewiring neural pathways through the venom’s influence.
Suddenly, the screen shifted again, this time displaying images of human subjects. Their faces were obscured; they appeared dazed yet serene. The soft music accompanying the footage reached a crescendo as Rachel saw herself holding a piece of the creature and injecting a translucent serum into their arms.
“Phase 1 was a success,” her recorded voice echoed with an unsettling confidence. “We achieved mutual compatibility with minimal side effects. However, the effects are temporary. I surmise that the animal graft won’t produce the desired results unless it’s applied to the subject’s brain.”
“And here we are,” Dr. Cross concluded as the video faded to black. “You were so convinced of your theories that you volunteered to be the first test subject of Phase 2. Now do you understand?”
Rachel’s heart sank as the weight of realization settled upon her shoulders. She rolled her eyes in disbelief. “But I didn’t… I couldn’t have…” Her voice trailed off, lost amidst the maelstrom of thoughts swirling in her mind.
“Ah, but you did,” Dr. Cross interjected, a glimmer of triumph dancing in her eyes. “You are a visionary, Rachel. Your brilliance brought us here. When you’re recovered, we’ll test the limits of your new abilities but for now, you need to rest some more. I’ll wake you up again in a couple of days.”
Dr. Cross reached into her coat pocket and produced a sleek, silver syringe that glinted like a sharp blade. The needle was long, almost sinister, and contained a swirling liquid that shifted colors - amber, green, and violet - as if it were alive.
“This,” Dr. Cross said, “is the new catalyst, a refined concoction derived from the creature’s venom mixed with your own genetic material. It will speed up the integration process, allowing the graft to take hold more effectively. I’ve also included a sleeping agent in the formula so that you are well rested while the transformation process takes place. Relax, Rachel. You’ll be a Goddess among men, soon.
Rachel shook her head, trying hard to back away despite being strapped down. “No! You can’t… I didn’t agree to this! It doesn’t matter what you showed me… This can’t be real!”
“It’s too late to reverse the process so you might as well enjoy the ride,” Dr. Cross declared, piercing her friend’s neck with reckless abandon. “Sweet dreams and I’ll see you in other side of evolution.”
Powerless to stop the ominous liquid flowing through her veins, Rachel lost consciousness and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

About a week later, she awoke again, her surroundings bathed in an ethereal glow. She was no longer in the laboratory, but it smelled of antiseptic anyway. The room was vast yet somewhat intimate. Soft shadows danced along the walls as a row of fluorescent lights flickered above her head.
Rachel wore a light Summer dress and open-toed sandals. Her body was different - lighter, almost buoyant. She flexed her fingers; they tingled with energy, each movement sending a ripple of warmth cascading through her limbs. A mirror loomed before her, framed in carved metal that reflected not only her visage but a profound transformation. Her skin glimmered with an iridescent sheen, like the surface of a calm lake at dawn, and her eyes shone with uncanny luminosity, swirling depths of color that shifted with every blink.
“Am I still human?” she thought, the memories of the entire procedure flooding her mind. 
There was a door at the end of the room. When she looked at it, it opened far and wide and a man and a woman were dragged in by armed guards. Dr. Cross accompanied them, and her nefarious intentions were clear.
“It’s time, Rachel,” she said. “All tests have shown that the integration is permanent, but we still need to determine just how powerful the venom’s effect is now that it’s a part of your system. You’ll try your new abilities on them.”
“Who are they?” Rachel asked.
“Subjects, nothing more. They won’t be missed if that’s what you’re wondering. Do your worst so we can record and analyze the effects. Oh, and have fun! I know I would.”
“Fun? Evelyn, this is obscene!” Rachel exclaimed, daring to call her by her first name again.”
“You say that now, my friend, but I doubt your indignation will last. Talk to you soon.”
Dr. Cross turned on her heel, signaling the guards to follow her. The heavy door closed behind them with a resounding thud, leaving Rachel alone in the room with the two new arrivals who lay slumped against the cold, sterile floor.
The man had curly brown hair that fell over his forehead, framing a face marred by stubble and bruises. His lips were parted, revealing uneven teeth. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. He was clothed in a tattered shirt that clung to his frame, hinting at the struggle he must have endured prior to his arrival here.
As for the woman, she was quite beautiful and with an air of quiet defiance, her golden hair cascading in thick waves around her shoulders. Her right cheek was bruised, a mottled purple on her porcelain skin, and yet there was something regal about her, as if she were more than just a victim of circumstance. 
At first, Rachel tried to ignore them, remaining in her corner, away from any contact. She could feel energy thrumming through her limbs, igniting the air around her with barely contained power. A single touch would trigger the venom, and she didn’t want to do anything she would come to regret. However, fate was not on her side.
Minutes ticked by and the two strangers rose from their forced slumber. The moment their eyes met, they started screaming and ran toward Rachel as if begging for her help. The transformed scientist recoiled at their approach, but it wasn’t enough. When they grabbed her wrists, sobbing like there was no tomorrow, something wicked shone through. 
Rachel felt the electricity of their grip seep into her, amplifying the wild energy that surged beneath her skin. She gazed into their desperate eyes - the man’s wide with fear, the woman’s fierce yet pleading - and an instinct as primal as the earth itself welled up within her. Without thinking, she let go of her hesitation.
Their fingers wrapped around hers, and a jolt of power surged forth, slithering through her veins like liquid starlight. It was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. The venom, the very essence of her transformation, leaked from Rachel’s fingertips and slithered across their arms and legs, an unstoppable silver wave.
The pair began to convulse, their bodies wracked with tremors. The man’s mouth twisted in silent agony as his muscles spasmed; his form crumpled like parchment set aflame. The woman, however, tried to fight the invasion of her body, digging her nails into Rachel’s fists until they started bleeding. It was no use, though. The creature’s toxin, now one hundred times more powerful because of the human brain, flooded her from head to toe until she sank to her knees, mouth agape.
“Wonderful!” Dr. Cross’ voice echoed from an invisible speaker hidden somewhere in the room. “Now, you should be able to take full control of them. Use your power, Rachel! Show me how strong you are!”
The words echoed in her ears like a dark promise, igniting something cruel and thrilling inside Rachel. She felt the rush of power coursing through her, an exhilarating tide that threatened to engulf her soul. She stood taller, drawing upon her new strength, and with it came an insatiable hunger for domination.
“Kiss the floor!” she commanded.
The moment the words left her lips, the two strangers fell silent, their eyes glazed over as if a switch had been flipped. The man’s body trembled but his gaze remained locked on Rachel, filled with a mixture of confusion and dread. Meanwhile, the woman seemed to fight against the compulsion racking her body, but soon enough she relinquished any semblance of resistance.
Like marionettes severed from their strings, they both dropped to the ground. Their foreheads met the cold floor with a muted thud that echoed in the spacious room, pressing their lips hard in reverent submission.
“Now crawl to my feet!” she demanded, dangling her toes like leaves caught in a breeze.
Rachel smirked as she observed them obeying her commands. Their bodies inched forward. The man’s hands scraped against the floor, his fingers trembling as he drew closer, each movement filled with a desperate need for approval. The woman followed suit, her body sliding across the smooth surface as though it were a sacrificial altar, the burden of her will yielding to Rachel’s newfound authority.
“Closer!” They complied without hesitation, their foreheads still pressed against the cold ground, surrender manifesting in every inch they crawled. The soft fabric of their clothes brushed against her ankles, their breaths coming in shallow gasps.
With a flick of her wrist, Rachel allowed herself a moment of indulgence. She savored the sight before her: two souls laid bare, stripped of resistance and pride. “Now kiss my feet,” she chuckled, admiring her hands and the unrelenting power they now possessed.
Their lips met her feet, soft and reverent, a chorus of wonder rising within Rachel as she watched the worship unfold. The man pressed his mouth against her left foot first, his breath warm and trembling against her skin, as if he were tasting the very essence of submission. The woman did the same, her lips brushing against the delicate arch of Rachel’s right foot—each kiss a sacred offering, each touch transferring yet more energy into Rachel’s being. “Hmm,” she sighed. She could get used to this after all.
“Success!” Dr. Cross rejoiced. “That’s it, Rachel! Harness this feeling and fuck their minds until there’s nothing left! Oh, we’re going to make a fortune with this!”
“We?” the changed woman thought, her mind darkening with every passing second. Why would she share her precious gift with anyone else? No, there was only room for one venomous lady within the company, and as soon as the doors opened again, she would show everyone what she meant. 
“Yes…” she said, waiting for the moment to unleash hell without reservation. It was bound to come soon.

The End