The Mau The Merrier

Purrologue

"She never thought it would end like this. That day, the day she died, she was just doing her job-delivering the final designs for a product that promised to change the beauty industry. The kind of work that every intern dreams of, that could open doors. But then everything spiraled out of control.

The intern-that was all she had been, just an intern-had no reason to be where she was. No reason to be listening in, to overhear things she wasn't supposed to. But her curiosity had always gotten the better of her, and that day, it sealed her fate.

She had just finished handing over the designs, feeling a small rush of pride at how perfect it all looked. The anti-aging cream, the one the company was so invested in, was going to be their next big thing. But as she walked past the boardroom, she stopped. A voice caught her ear, and without thinking, she leaned closer, just enough to hear.

"...but I can't live with turning people into monsters."

The intern froze. Monsters? She was no expert in beauty products, but that sounded too extreme. Too wrong.

She couldn't stop herself from peeking around the corner, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the images on the screen-women's faces, twisted and warped by the effects of the cream. Their skin, swollen and deformed, was a grotesque display of the product's failure. The very thing they had been pushing to the public, the very thing she'd worked on, was wrecking lives.

"Oh, my gosh..." she muttered to herself, her stomach turning. She didn't know what she was looking at, but she knew it was bad. Too bad.

She had to leave. She had to run. But as she took a step back, she bumped into a counter, a glass shattering under the force. The sound was deafening in the quiet hallway, and she froze, panic flooding her chest.

"Who's there?" a voice shouted from the boardroom.

There was no time to think. The intern spun around and bolted down the hallway, her shoes slapping against the floor as she sprinted away. The sound of footsteps behind her told her they were following. They knew. They knew she had heard too much.

She reached the stairwell and dashed down, heart pounding in her ears, breath ragged. The door at the bottom of the stairs was locked. She yanked it open, only to come face-to-face with a guard.

They made eye contact.

For one second, she froze.

But then, instinct took over. She backtracked, her feet pounding against the floor as she ran into the nearest storage room, the door slamming shut behind her. She barely had time to hide behind a stack of boxes, her chest heaving, praying they wouldn't find her.

They did.

A shadow loomed over the boxes, and a voice called out, too calm, too practiced.

"You can come out now. It's okay. We'd just like to ask you a few questions. Alright?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She slowly raised her hands, her breath shaky as she stepped out from behind the boxes, forcing a nervous smile. "Uh... sorry. But I think maybe I'm in the wrong..."

Before she could finish the sentence, the guard raised his gun.

Bang.

The bullet missed by a hair, but it was enough. The intern spun, diving back behind the boxes, her pulse racing as she scrambled to her feet. They couldn't catch her. Not now.

She ran again, darting into the boiler room, the red light bathing the space in a sickly hue. The sounds of the guards chasing her were relentless, the thudding footsteps behind her like a drumbeat in her chest. Every corner she turned, every door she opened, they were there.

"What are you doing?" the other guard yelled at Armando.

"Don't. Ever. Do that again," Armando shot back, cold and furious.

But that didn't stop the chase. The intern ran, stumbling, the narrow hallway ahead of her seeming to stretch on forever. She had no idea where she was going. Only that she had to keep moving.

She burst into the waste treatment area, the metallic smell of chemicals hitting her nose. The ground was slick, and she slipped on the ramp, nearly losing her footing. The muck beneath her feet felt like a trap, slowing her down.

Behind her, she could hear them coming. She couldn't stop now. She stumbled, falling forward into the sludge, the thick muck sucking her down. Panic surged as she tried to regain her balance, but her legs were useless. She backed away from the door, closer to the pipe that loomed like an escape.

She didn't have time to think. She didn't have time to weigh the options. She just had to get away.

The door opened.

She lunged for the pipe, her fingers grasping at the cold metal, pulling herself into the dark tunnel. The pipe was narrow, its walls rough, but it was the only way out.

The guards paused at the entrance, looking down at the pipe. Armando pointed with his gun.

"She ran down to waste treatment, jumped in a pipe," one of the men said into the phone.

The intern's heart slammed in her chest as the sound of alarms blared, their sirens deafening.

She could feel it. They were sealing her in. The door was closing.

The wind picked up inside the pipe. She could hear the rush of air pushing against her, but it was too late to turn back now. She had no choice but to keep moving.

The pipe creaked ominously as the gusts of air grew stronger, pushing her forward. She stumbled, her legs struggling to keep up with the pressure. But then-water. Cold, icy water surged from behind her, rushing through the pipe with a force she couldn't fight.

The intern tried to scramble, tried to hold on, but the current was too strong. She was shoved forward, her body carried by the rush of water. She gasped for breath, the cold water filling her mouth, but it was too late.

The ocean was waiting.

Her feet slipped from beneath her. The pipe opened, the world outside dark and vast. She barely had time to register the drop before she was pushed into the water, the cold depths swallowing her whole. She fought, but the water was too much. It pulled her under, her body going limp as the ocean claimed her.

And then, just like that, everything went black."