“Laboratory Terror”

The acrid smell of chemicals burned Marcus’s nostrils as consciousness slowly returned. His head throbbed, and when he tried to move, cold metal bars pressed against his arms. Through bleary eyes, he saw Kira and Thane in similar cages beside him, their faces pale in the sickly green light that bathed the laboratory. Tubes snaked from their arms to a massive apparatus that hummed with malevolent energy.

“Ah, you’re awake,” came a voice from the shadows. A woman stepped into view—thin, angular, with wild hair and eyes that gleamed with dangerous intelligence. “Perfect timing. I was just about to begin the final phase.”

Marcus remembered now. They’d been investigating reports of strange creatures near River Bridge, following rumors that led them to an unassuming bookstore. The ground floor had been cluttered with dusty tomes and the smell of river water, but something had felt wrong. When they’d pressed the shopkeeper—this woman—about the screams neighbors reported, she’d offered them tea. The last thing he remembered was the bitter taste and her satisfied smile.

“What do you want with us?” Kira demanded, her voice hoarse but defiant even from within the cage.

The woman—Gilnet Mang, she’d called herself—gestured grandly at the laboratory surrounding them. Bubbling vats lined the walls, filled with murky liquids that occasionally sparked with unnatural light. Steam hissed from beakers connected by a maze of copper tubing, and the air thrummed with barely contained magical energy.

“You’ll make excellent genetic subjects,” Gilnet said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Your life essence will fuel my greatest creation. But first, let me show you true artistry.”

She moved to another set of cages across the room, where three creatures huddled in the shadows. At first glance, they appeared to be ordinary beasts—something like wolves, perhaps, with sleek fur and intelligent eyes. But as Gilnet whispered an incantation and gestured with her hands, the creatures began to change.

Their forms rippled and shifted like water disturbed by a stone. Fur receded, limbs elongated, and within moments, Marcus was staring at perfect duplicates of himself and his companions. The shapeshifters examined their new forms with predatory satisfaction, flexing fingers that had been claws moments before.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Gilnet preened. “Months of work, perfecting the transformation serums. They can hold any form for hours, long enough to complete their mission.”

“Mission?” Thane asked, though Marcus could hear the dread in his friend’s voice.

Gilnet’s smile turned vicious. “Revenge, my dear subjects. You see, there’s a certain sorceress in the castle district who needs to learn the price of humiliating Gilnet Mang. Sareth Gen thought herself so superior, mocking my theories at the Academy, stealing the position that should have been mine.” Her voice rose to a shriek before she composed herself. “But tonight, she dies. And when the constables find her body torn apart by monsters wearing your faces, well… justice will finally be served.”

The machine beside their cages hummed louder, and Marcus watched in horror as a thick, green substance began flowing through the tubes toward their arms. Where it touched exposed skin, it burned like acid.

“The transformation serum,” Gilnet explained conversationally, as if discussing the weather. “It will rewrite your very essence, turning you into my loyal servants. The process is… unpleasant. Most subjects don’t survive the initial mutation. But don’t worry—if you die, I’ll find other volunteers.”

She turned to her creatures. “Now then, my beauties. Off to the castle district. Remember—make it messy. I want there to be no doubt about what killed dear Sareth.”

As the shapeshifters filed out, trailing the malevolent figure of Gilnet Mang, Marcus tested the strength of his cage. The bars were solid, but the lock mechanism looked complex—too complex for brute force, but perhaps…

“Kira,” he whispered. “Your lockpicks. Are they still—?”

“Hidden in my boot heel,” she confirmed quietly. “But I can’t reach them with these restraints.”

The green serum crept closer through the tubes. Marcus could feel its heat approaching his arm, and panic gave him strength. He twisted violently, feeling the metal restraint cut into his wrist, but creating just enough space to work his hand free.

“The lock mechanism,” Thane observed, his scholarly mind working even in crisis. “It’s magical, but there’s a manual override. If we can trigger it simultaneously…”

Working together, they managed to coordinate their escape. Marcus freed his hand and reached Kira’s boot, retrieving the slender tools she’d hidden there. Her fingers, more skilled than his, worked at the lock while Thane analyzed the magical patterns woven into the mechanism.

The serum was inches from Marcus’s arm when Kira’s pick found the final tumbler. “Got it!”

Their cage doors swung open just as footsteps echoed from the stairway above. More creatures—Gilnet’s failed experiments, by the look of them—came bounding down the spiral staircase. These were less refined than the shapeshifters, amalgamations of different animals fused together with obvious seams where the magic had forced incompatible parts to merge.

“The door,” Marcus shouted, grabbing a glass beaker from a nearby table. It shattered against the first creature’s head, releasing a cloud of noxious vapor that sent it reeling. “It’s locked!”

Thane was already examining the exit, his hands weaving detection spells. “Trapped too. Give me a moment—”

A creature that might once have been a cat, but now sported the head of a snake and wings of a bat, launched itself at Kira. She rolled aside, snatching a metal rod from one of the apparatus stands. Electricity crackled along its length as she brought it down on the monster’s spine.

“The green serum,” she called out, dodging another attack. “It’s explosive! If we can rupture those containers—”

Marcus understood immediately. He grabbed another beaker, this one filled with a clear liquid that sparkled with magical energy, and hurled it at the nearest vat of transformation serum. The explosion rocked the laboratory, sending chunks of glass and metal flying. The hybrid creatures shrieked as the green substance splattered across them, their already unstable forms beginning to mutate further.

“Now!” Thane shouted. The trap on the door flickered and died as the magical energies in the room went wild. He wrenched it open, and they stumbled out into the bookstore’s cluttered main floor.

Behind them, the laboratory erupted in a series of smaller explosions as chemical reactions cascaded out of control. The building shook, and books tumbled from their shelves.

“The castle district,” Kira gasped as they burst onto the street. “Those things—they’re going to kill an innocent woman and frame us for it.”

River Bridge stretched before them, its shops dark in the pre-dawn hours. They ran, their boots echoing on the cobblestones, racing against time and their own doppelgangers. Behind them, smoke began to rise from the bookstore’s windows.

The castle district was a maze of wealthy mansions and magical academies, each protected by its own wards and guardians. But Marcus knew they were too late when they heard the screams echoing from a tower window three blocks away.

“There,” Thane pointed. “Sareth Gen’s residence.”

They arrived to find constables already surrounding the building, their lanterns casting dancing shadows on the walls. Through a shattered window, Marcus could see the aftermath—furniture overturned, spell components scattered across the floor, and blood. Too much blood.

“Stop right there!” A constable captain stepped forward, his sword already drawn. “Marcus Brightblade, Kira Shadowstep, Thane Scrollkeeper—you’re under arrest for the murder of Sorceress Sareth Gen.”

“You don’t understand,” Marcus began, but the captain cut him off.

“We have witnesses who saw you enter the building. The victim’s wounds match your weapons. And we found these at the scene.” He held up several items—Kira’s distinctive throwing knife, Thane’s spell focus, Marcus’s family crest.

Of course. The shapeshifters had been thorough.

“Search Gilnet Mang’s bookstore on River Bridge,” Kira said desperately as the constables moved to restrain them. “You’ll find her laboratory, evidence of her experiments. We can prove—”

“Already did a week ago after hearing rumors about her shop,” the captain replied grimly. “Found nothing but a shop full of books. Owner’s missing, probably fled after you murdered her too.”

As the manacles clicked into place around their wrists, Marcus caught a glimpse of movement in an alley across the street. A figure in a dark cloak watched from the shadows—too distant to make out features, but something about the posture seemed familiar.

Gilnet Mang raised one hand in a mocking salute, then melted back into the darkness. Her revenge was complete. The brilliant sorceress who had humiliated her was dead, and her three would-be heroes would face the executioner’s axe for the crime.

But as they were led away toward the constabulary, Marcus noticed something the others had missed—a thin trail of green serum leading from the crime scene toward the river. The shapeshifters might be able to hold human form, but they couldn’t contain their creator’s unstable magic forever.

The hunt was far from over.

“This isn’t finished,” he whispered to his companions as the prison wagon rolled through the rough part of town. “We’ll prove our innocence. And when we do, Gilnet Mang will pay for every life she’s destroyed.”

In her hidden safehouse near the docks, the mad scientist smiled and began planning her next experiment. After all, she had a reputation to rebuild, and so many enemies left to punish.

This short story was created by Claude.AI, using the one page dungeon named “Laboratory Terror” in The Rough Part of Town as the training set. This is an experiment to see if the Heartwizard Games roleplaying supplements can be used as source material to generate stories. Hopefully you liked it!