I lie down on the padded, mossy, floor of my cell, curled up in a fetal position as I hear one of my captors thrust open the door on its squeaky hinges. A strand of my long black hair drops down and into my gaping mouth, but I'm too entranced in my own thoughts to care to spit it out again. My rough whiskers scratch against the fabric of the floor like nails on wood. Footsteps approach me, stopping just short of making contact with my bruised back.

"Entering room number sixty-seven," he says as he pulls his clipboard and pen from under his arm, "preparing for a testing of..." he retrieves a bottle of pills from a pocket in his lab coat, squinting at the white label, "project number three twenty three."Rolling me over with his boot, he kicked me in the stomach with its steel toe. "Open up, handsome." I held my jaw tight for as long as he could, but opened up immediately upon seeing him pull a pair of pliers out of his pocket. "That's what I thought..."

Plugging my nose, he wrapped his arm around my neck, staring into my open mouth until he saw plastic little capsule slide down my throat. "Turning on camera feed..." he said as he turned on the security camera, "and leaving to observe subject 67's live footage from lab."

Does he really have to narrate every word he pens down?

I watch from the floor as he leaves the cell, and finally closes the door behind him. Wait. Looking at the entrance, I notice that he accidentally dropped more of his precious pills from his pocket. But these pills look completely different from the one he had given me. Is this my chance for escape? All my life, I've been trapped onboard this space station, going through agony after agony as they toyed with since being kidnapped as a child, giving me near-lethal doses of drugs with side effects that I could have never imagined on my own. But maybe, if I take these, it can all be over...

But what if it's not? What if I recover, and they check the security feed, and see how much profit this little mishap has cost them? No time to consider the consequences. As my stomach screamed at me to lie still, I forced myself to army crawl my way to the pills on the floor. "Unlock this door! Do it now! I dropped some Meta pills in there!"

Too late for you. I reached out to the floor, wiping the grime off of the pills with my sleeve and popping them down my throat just as they kicked open my door. "You miserable little rat! When I'm done with you I'm gonna-" My ribs split open like a carboard box, and loads of worms sprung out of me like confetti, springing onto them. "Agh! Oh, God! Get them off of me!" I watched in horror from the floor as the worms began digging their tiny teeth into them, ripping off their skin until I could hardly recognize them anymore. Wait. Did they say meta? What does that even mean?

For the first time since I can remember, I walked out of the cell.

"S... s-stop right there! Go back to your cell immediately or I will open f-fire!" A frail little man in a lab coat stood in my path, his shaky hands doing their best to cling to a small pistol. "I...
I can't allow you to s-s-screw this up!" Sweat dripped down his hairless face, and his empty hand contorted itself in fear and anxiety. "Get out of my way."

He fired off his gun, and I instinctively put up my arm to block it. But I wasn't fast enough. I felt the bullet the moment I heard him pull the trigger, digging itself a new hole in my forehead, and coming to a sudden halt when inside. I fell to the floor, a stream of blood flowing the grated floor.

"S-subject... subject killed," he whined into his walkie talkie, "I tried to detain him, but I had to resort to lethal force."

Wait, how do I know this? Now, I felt as the worms burrowed around inside me, then pushing the bullet out of my skull as it hit the floor with an echoed clink. He whipped his arm towards me to fire again, but he was too slow, and I pounced on top of him, throwing his gun across the hallway. "You think you can tell me what to do now?! You are completely powerless!" I squeezed my fingers around his throat and threw him down onto the floor, face first. "All my life, I've been your toy," Blood flowed from his mouth as he tried to fight back. "locked in your cage, taking your drugs, playing by your rules. But now, it's my turn."

Slamming his head against a lead pipe attached to the wall, I shattered the walkie talkie under my foot before moving on, heading in the direction that he came from. Since I don't know anything about the layout of the station, it's likely I'll have to do a lot of exploration. As I spent my numerous hours searching for clues, killing guards, and interrogating the scientists, I slowly mastered the powers I had been granted by the parasites who have taken up camp inside of me, discovering that I could control them with my mind, making them do as I please. Finally. The command deck. I try opening it, but I quickly find that it's been locked by those inside, something easily undone when I order a small troop of worms to crawl in and pick the lock. All I have to do now is kill whoever is inside, and use the map to locate the escape pods.

"Like I s-said earlier..." A bony hand grabbed my shoulder, acidic sludge dripping off and melting into my flesh, eliciting a scream of agony. "I can't let you s-screw this up."