205. Pieces of Amy
Amy grabs the death ray. “This should be handy for dealing with the rest of the freaks in this crazy mansion!” Amy says to herself. She points it menacingly at various pieces of furniture in the lab.
“Take THAT, lab table! Too slow, stool! Say your prayers, mirror-“
As Amy points the death ray at a mirror in the corner, her finger slips and pulls the trigger. A red beam shoots out of the gun, bounces of the mirror, ricochets off a shiny metal lab table, reflects off the sheen of a well-polished doomsday device, and comes to a rest on Amy’s stomach.
Gulp! says Amy.
A pool of red radiates out from where Amy was struck, slowly encompassing her whole body. The glow brightens until she’s the color of a Christmas ornament over her entire body… then it fades. Within a few seconds, Amy is back to normal.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” says Amy, sauntering over to the table where she got the gun. “I guess this piece of junk doesn’t wo-”
KABOOM!
As her hand makes contact with the table, Amy explodes into a thousand sticky little pieces, sending Amy chunks all over the lab. The explosion tears apart the doctor’s lab notebook. A small scrap of paper floats gently to the ground, coming to rest on what were once Amy’s boots, the last reminder that Amy once stood there other than the sticky mess that now coats the room. The paper reads: “Death Ray. Weaponizes biological entities. Transforms living atoms into highly volatile explosives. Once transformation is complete, the slightest impact will set off an explosion. VERY DANGEROUS.”
Amy is in no condition to continue this adventure or her life.