Inside a Classified Government Research Facility Unveiling My Journal Entries Part 3

Inside a Classified Government Research Facility Unveiling My Journal Entries Part 3

Entry 12 – December 25th,
The mold on the walls has proliferated significantly, overtaking large portions of the lab. In any other circumstance, a quarantine would be in order, yet everyone continues working as if oblivious to the situation. There's a nagging suspicion that people's skin is starting to mirror the color of the pulsating, moldy walls. Morrison, in particular, looks grey and bloated, sweating excessively. Despite this, productivity has reached unprecedented levels. Conversations revolve solely around the project, and individuals arrive early, stay late, and consume only what is necessary to function. Strangely, some are inexplicably gaining weight. We've achieved significant advancements in cell cultivation, hatching eggs from Cryo. Reportedly, the new specimens differ from the one I previously observed, although the specifics are unclear. A coworker approached me today, seeking the status of certain reports, and the stench emanating from him was unbearable. The skin on his neck, once slender, was peeling, and his eyes had taken on an amber hue. Thick veins on his hands seemed to writhe, as if controlled by some unseen force. This appears to be a common occurrence, with everyone adopting mutated versions of their former selves. I keep my distance, unable to reach Abed, and overheard someone mention his name in connection with the word "Spawn." Mia remains the only person who seems unaffected, at least for now. The uncertainty lingers.
Entry 13 – March 9th,
Mia and I have been devising an escape plan. The situation here has taken a deeply disturbing turn. Initially aimed at understanding and sequencing the DNA of the creature, the project has shifted toward producing more specimens. Morrison is exploring options, proposing placing multiple specimens in other labs or even passing them off as a new species of octopus at aquariums. The unsettling part is the lack of objection from anyone; everyone is fully committed to the project, which has evolved significantly since my arrival. Mia and I sought to save data and expose the truth publicly, but all information is heavily encrypted, set to auto-delete on any attempt to copy it. Government security protocols, unknown to the public, make saving information nearly impossible. Phones and cameras are strictly prohibited within miles of the facility, leaving only my logs, transcribed into a notebook.
In our research, we discovered that Abed is dead. His body was found in his room, invaded by slimy spores that infiltrated his brain, attached to the walls, and crawled up to the vents. The pictures were horrifying, and sadly, he wasn't the only victim. Many colleagues met similar fates, and the sinister individuals here were meticulously documenting the grotesque growths, taking samples, and attempting to cultivate them in a lab. There's potential evidence linking all of this to the creature we found. The unsettling question remains: why were Mia and I unaffected, and how many others may be out there sharing our plight?
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