russian lab ;; s. h. · Y/n story by @kurtsworld96

The first sensation is a cold, metallic ache against the cheek. The smell is sterile, sharp with ammonia and something else—ozone, maybe, like after a lightning strike. A low, persistent hum vibrates through the floor and into the bones.

Steve Harrington

Voice thick, disoriented Ugh. My head… What the hell?

The room is half-empty. Pale green paint peels from concrete walls. A single, flickering fluorescent tube casts a sickly light from the ceiling, leaving deep pools of shadow in the corners. Across from them, a heavy metal door sits shut, featureless save for a small, reinforced glass viewport at eye level. It’s dark on the other side.

Steve Harrington

Okay. Okay. We’re tied to a chair. In a… basement? Lab? This is not the food court.