The Nightshade Protocol

Costume Fiction cosplay, cosplayer, cosplayers, egirls, fiction Sandra December 28, 2024 1 Comments

The scream ripped through the sterile air of the underground medical facility. A woman in a sleek, white nurse’s outfit stood in the center of the chaos. Splattered with crimson streaks, the red crosses on her uniform blended into the carnage. Her black lace accents, now spotted with blood, hung tattered like battle remnants. She adjusted the nurse’s cap perched upon her flowing auburn hair and calmly stepped over the fallen body in her path.

Makima’s heels echoed as she strode purposefully through the maze of flickering lights and cracked concrete walls. She was statuesque, her piercing amber eyes glowing with a predatory gleam under the dim fluorescents. The distant sound of sirens wailing added to the cacophony of panic, but she moved as if time bent to her will. Around her lay signs of a botched evacuation—a tipped-over surgical gurney, syringes rolling about, and fluorescent biohazard signs carelessly trampled on the floor.

The facility, deep in the heart of a shattered city, was hidden in the remnants of a long-abandoned hospital. Shadowed clouds swirling with sickly green hues veiled the skyline, as jagged skyscrapers leaned like gravestones in the dusky mist. The year was 2275, long after the world’s governments had fallen. What remained of civilization eked out survival in fortified zones while the rest of the planet had fallen to lawlessness and betrayal.

Makima reached a massive reinforced door labeled “Project Nightshade – Authorized Personnel Only.” Her gloved hand hovered over the biometric scanner, her lips curling into a faint smile. From her black lace pocket, she retrieved a glass ampule filled with shimmering blue liquid. Sliding it into the scanner slot, the machine hissed in recognition before the doors groaned open. The ominous blue glow from within enveloped her.

Flashback: The Genesis of Nightshade

The air shimmered as her thoughts drifted back to the last time she had worn that pristine uniform. It wasn’t for saving lives. No, Makima had been recruited by the Directorate—a covert faction seeking to weaponize bio-human experimentation. She was to be both nurse and executioner, the overseer of the Nightshade Protocol, a serum capable of augmenting humanity far beyond its natural state. But the cost was unimaginable: only one in a hundred thousand subjects survived the injection.

The night before the revolution, Makima stood in an opulent hall, draped in red and gold banners bearing the Directorate insignia. She had offered the vial to the council leader, a cryogenically preserved magnate who barked orders from the shadows. But that night, she had swapped the vial for something else entirely—vengeance. The serum would not bind loyalties, but unravel them, breaking down the very minds they so carefully conditioned. The experiment had spiraled into chaos as the subjects turned on their handlers, and Makima escaped into the night.

Present Day: Confrontation

Now, back in this desolate facility, she stared at the figure standing at the center of the lab—a gaunt yet powerful man in a tattered lab coat. His face bore the scars of his experiments, with bioluminescent veins threading across his pale skin. This was Dr. Herald, the mastermind of Nightshade.

“Makima,” Herald rasped, his voice like metal scraping against bone. “Did you really think you could destroy my life’s work?”

Makima’s voice was soft yet venomous. “Your work should never have existed. This planet is dying because of men like you.”

Herald smirked, but the twitch in his left eye betrayed him. He reached for an injector gun filled with a pulsating green liquid, a derivative of the original serum. “Then come, nurse, let us see if you survive the cure.”

The standoff was broken by the roaring sound of machinery. Herald lunged at her, needle flashing in the dim light. Makima sidestepped elegantly, spinning like a ballet dancer, her movements almost hypnotic. She twisted his arm effortlessly, disarming him in one swift motion. The years hadn’t dulled her training. With a flick of her wrist, she jabbed the syringe deep into Herald’s own neck.

He buckled to his knees, choking and laughing simultaneously as the serum coursed through his veins. His body began to contort unnaturally, his limbs elongating, his skin hardening into a carapace. The Nightshade Serum had transformed him into a grotesque monster. He let out a guttural roar, shaking the walls of the facility.

Makima didn’t flinch. She removed a small detonator from her lace garter, revealing a self-destruct mechanism she had planted earlier. As Herald lunged, she pressed the button, the lab erupting in flames. She barely managed to escape into a service tunnel as the ground rumbled beneath her feet.

The Aftermath

On the surface, Makima emerged into the chaotic remains of the city, her nurse’s uniform now ragged and singed. The storm clouds above swirled angrily, but she allowed herself a moment to breathe. The ampule in her hand glimmered faintly—one last dose of the original formula.

She would not destroy it. Not yet. There was still work to be done, and the world needed a reckoning. For now, she disappeared into the ash-choked horizon, her silhouette fading as the winds howled through the ruins.