You know that new kind of burger? The one made from cells taken from the skin of cows. Yeah, seems like the science teams and research labs finally created a way of making food from basically nothing, and you'd think that'd be a great thing, but I'm not so sure.
This isn't the first time a project like this has sprung up. You're probably thinking I'm screwing with you now, but I'm serious, it's happened before. You've probably never heard of this, and like all things, there is a reason for this never being told. A rather... disturbing reason. Way back, into the Second World War, The Russian government realized they were struggling to feed their people. Children were sick, people were diseased and malnourished, many even tried to protest but, as history tells, they were quickly "silenced." Of course, the government needed a solution that didn't involve murdering all that spoke out, and fast. An unhappy populace leads to riots, violence and destruction after all, so they commissioned a small team of scientists to create... something. No real idea was given, so the science team was given free reign to do whatever they chose. Code-named "fine Russian cuisine", in the end, they came up with a monstrous idea.
You know how cancer cells multiply and multiply when in the body? Well, the Russian science team thought they could use this sort of growth, found in tumors and other such awful diseases and inflictions,
As meat products.
Now, if tumor burgers sound bad enough, it gets far worse from here.
They created a sort of serum, made tumors spring up on animals like bubbles on a boiling pot of water. They needed something that they could grow the cells on.
Animals were out of the question, as they were needed to produce more and more food, so the first thing they ask the higher ups is not a lab, or a grant or something like that, they asked for permission to use prisoners of war as freaking Guiana pigs. So they try it out. They get results, and then, in the blink of an eye, only a few weeks into development, something catastrophic breaks the whole thing down.
Now you're probably wondering how the hell I know this grotesque shit, but ill tell you.
I've been to the labs. When I learned from an anonymous source that this insanity was going down I just had to find where they did it, and sure enough, after months of searching around the Russian wilderness, I finally get a lead in this Russian town called Ust-Ilimsk. I talked around about "Russian cuisine" and on the second guy, I get a genuine response. It wasn't a good one albeit, the guy spat at my feet and told me to "fuck off and die", but it was still an indication that the labs were known around the town. I ask around, and I either get weird looks, shrugs, or scowls, until I meet one guy. Vasily, looked like he was in his late 80s, had a face like it'd been kicked by the hind legs of a horse, Had a sort of limp to go with it, but the man was a gold mine when it came to the project. He gave me the exact location, the way to get in, and even how long it would take to get there, and I was surprised, to say the least. Most people in the town didn't even know, let alone want to talk about it, so I was a little suspicious. I asked him why he was giving me all this information, and he simply responds,
"There is something you must see." In a throaty Russian accent.
"What... is it?" I reply tentatively, a little nervous now, with his cryptic message making me rather anxious
"You'll see."
And with that, he hobbled off. And I was left with the knowledge that there was something important... and possibly horrifying I needed to see up in that lab. Now, at this point, I had a choice. I either stay far the hell away from whatever the hell Vasily was speaking about, or I go and feed (no pun intended) my curiosity. Of course, curiosity won in that round, so I gathered up some supplies, a flashlight, some water, a map of the wilderness, stuff like that, in a rucksack, and drove off. It took about a day to reach the decrepit old tunnel. It was right up a rather long, steep climb up a rather intimidating mountain, like a spear among thumbtacks. The tunnel jutted out of the mountainside like a knife through butter. It was untouched, the little guard box at the side of it still had a gun and ammunition in it, with a little book opened at the side. I pressed a small button to open the large gate leading inside. It groaned and yawned open, the dust barley hanging on as the gate shuddered to life. I walked inside, and took the flashlight out of my bag. Turning it on lit up a long, dusty hallway, with a large, metal door at the back of it. I walked up, far less anxious than I was earlier, thinking that there probably wasn't anything living in here for years. No sign of life, not even algae growing on the walls, or plants in the cracks. nothing.
