Random Stories | OPEN FOR REQUESTS

Lab of the Past, Present & Future

Title: Lab of the Past, Present & Future
Genre/s: Semi-mystery, Fiction, Angst?
Info:
- N/A
Warnings:
- Implied Death
- Implied Negative Change
- Explosion

The torturing scent of mixed liquids filled the dirty air, as if the last bit of oxygen had entered the area a millennia ago - or maybe it had? It was that bad after all.
The walls were white, specks of dust clinging onto the metal shelves which hung off of the walls in places a ten year old could never reach.
A person with messy grey hair, wrinkly skin and crazy grey eyes stood (or leaned, either one) in front of a long object-covered table, beakers of all sorts filled with unknown contents scattered literally everywhere.
The figure with a tangled beard and long moustache poured what seemed to be grass-coloured water into a tall see-through tube, only to place it down as a confused expression climbed up their face, the juice-like substance turning a dark grey as it hit the pearly white powder in the container bellow that sat in the human's left hand.

"Ugh..." the old individual growled in a mix of frustration and puzzldness, turning to the left and walking towards a countertop similar to the first one - a cloud-hued binder being the one thing that stood out the most, even if it could be argued to be the most plain object in the room.
Their pale, long-nailed fingers opened the book-like item, revealing an assortment of papers & files with words written all over them.
The font was untidy, to say the least, letters not even close to matching with one another and words slanting off of the printed lines - almost turning upside down.
However (somehow), some of the text was still readable - at least, to the person who wrote it.
One of the pages, which was slightly torn, read;
'Project #13: Unchangeable/Unbreakable Metal
- To be completed by Oleander Separado when the clock reads 12 for the 13,000th time.
• "Goals matter the most, not something like chocolate."
    Rose Separado'
The bullet point was written on a sticky note which was attached to the paper, a picture of 'your ordinary couple' plastered next to it - a small brown haired girl in between the two adults.
The man in a dirty-white scientist's robe picked up an almost inkless pen with slightly shaky hands, landing the tip next to the woman's eyes and crossing over them with black ink.
"What you don't know can't hurt you." the male whispered, grinning slightly as he returned the pen to its place on the desk.

After turning back to the table from the beginning and searching vigorously for a certain test-tube like a mad man, he eventually found it - the glass container which had a silverish liquid inside.
Swirling around to face the opposite direction, an island with a large metal machine on top of it caught the figure's attention.
He stepped forward, slotting the glass cylinder into a holding chamber and barely missing the chance for his fingers to be burnt off by an unexpected burst of smoke.
"Weird," the elderly human thought to himself, "Only Type C does that, ain't that Type B? Eh, the devil won't stop me - it's just another one of it's tricks."

Once silence had seemed to have just captured the space, the sound of glass being taken off of a hard surface echoed throughout the experiment-filled area.
Oleander placed a tray of sample tubes next to the currently open binder, the male turning over a few pages before landing on the one which held a detailed (but messy) diagram.
The image seemed to be a sketch of the set up to the left of the paper-holder, words and arrows connected to it like an instruction manual shred to pieces, and then the torn parts of it stuck to a kid's science project with glue.
As time passed by, (meanwhile the small clock in the far left corner of the desk repetitively making a tick-tock noise) the scientist grew more and more frustrated - the liquids like dogs not behaving and his eyes jumping between the drawing and real-life replica at the speed of light.

How he stayed focused, no one could ever know, especially with the fact that a darkish-grey cloud had begun to float out of the beaker on the unsupervised table - specks of green joining the escape whilst dancing in the air; dancing, out of evil victory.
'BANG!' the mist expanded drastically, a solid object coloured like the man's widened eyes falling out of the metal configuration which was now shattered on the cracking floor, the item hitting the binder and shredding the papers to smithereens.
Suddenly, in a matter of milliseconds, the last thing heard was a scream before deafening silence.

~

'Brr~!' a machine-like sound could be heard from within the mix of dirt and stone, until the materials seemed to lead to a bunch of white shards that is - a hole appearing along with a humongous sideways metal cone.
"We hit something!" a loud, commanding voice boomed, the engine of the machine going quiet as a group of men walked into the wreckage that they had discovered.
Broken pieces of glass, metal and concrete were scattered along with the much more common soil & rock salad - which rested amongst the ground.
One of the people wearing a white top and yellow vest picked up a chunk of silver stone, "This looks a bit too 'perfect' for stone."
"That's because it ain't stone, it's metal." another spoke up, "I found a binder with a few torn pages, and boss got a skull."
The one who was being referred to nodded slightly, before speaking, "We shall report these to some scientists of sorts, it's quite the finding."

"And after your father said that, they found out more about the lab and how it came to be the way that it is today." a woman with short brown hair smiled at the child next to her, silver emotion-filled eyes looking at the boy that sat with her on the bed,
"Mommy, can we go to the ladies house - you know, the one in the photo? I wanna give her a gift, losing her husband made her sad." the young one asked, gazing up at his mother.
She pondered a bit before responding, "What if we go to granny's tomorrow?"
He grinned in delight as a non-verbal response, receiving a kiss on the cheek before the lady got off of the mattress and walked towards the door.
"Goodnight mama!"
"Goodnight Oliver... you're just like my father."