[ WP ] A new engineering intern at Tegra Corp , you find yourself stumbling blindly through the hallways after a massive power failure . When the emergency lights glow , you are in a room with a massive vault . The door starts to grind open .

A dull rumble vibrated the floor beneath my feet, and I could feel something happening. *Finally*. The lights had been out for almost an hour, and I had been in one of the most remote segments of the facility dropping off a package for Dr. Horz, one of the biotech R & D gurus. I had been stumbling around for what felt like ages, but my watch did confirm that it was only 56 minutes. *56 minutes of noiseless terror*. This particular R & D facility of Tegra was filled with wonders, but it was very nearly empty. 
 
 I was in my second week of interning, a lowly, aspiring electrical engineer. Thus far, I had done little more than grunt work with the odd bit of logic design. Mostly just documentation though. Endless documentation. 
 
 The ground stopped trembling, and the lights slowly inked a light incandescence. 
 
 The walls in front of me slowly illuminated, and I was peering at a tremendous vault. A vault door—to be specific. A vault door…which was slightly cracked open. The metallic alloy comprising its structure wasn ’ t flush with the surrounding wall. And then the door started cracking open more. The noise was probably the most frightening thing. The grinding of gears and servos, attempting to hold the door shut, was echoing riotously throughout the small room. 
 
 I started backing away slowly. I don ’ t know where I am. I don ’ t know what is behind that door, and I don ’ t want to be here anymore. I take a large, decisive step towards the door, and I hear a different kind of rumble—a throaty rumble, from some *thing*. And then the door quite literally gave up its effort to hold whatever was within and sprang backwards, slamming into the wall. 
 
 The darkness was wholly shrouding the space beyond. A deep, primal terror was creeping into every nook of my being. What the *fuck* is happening? And then I see it. Six or seven feet in the air, slowly apparating into existence as the gentle illumination of the emergency lighting found it. A long, tube, slowly tapering to a point. No, not one. Many. The *presence* became more pronounced in the room. I watched as the objects source grew more visible. Dense, matted hair. The tubes were sprouting from it. And then the eyes. 
 
 Yellow—slitted—orbs. 
 
 It sprang. The last thing I perceived in those final moments, as my body was wrapped handily in a clawed grip, was a pronounced and deliberate, “ Meow. ” 

