Chapter 1: open your eyes.

  He opened his eyes slowly. His head ached, and he couldn’t make sense of the noise around him. Pain and confusion clouded his senses. His emotions swirled uncontrollably—first fear engulfed him, then anger, and finally a sadness that felt like losing someone at that very moment. He trembled, unable to control his reactions. Slowly, he regained some clarity and realized he was contained in a jar.

  Inside the jar was nothing, and the lid was tightly shut, pierced with small holes. He reached out, trying to put his hand on it—but there was no hand. Instead, he found long, needle-like feet. No feet? More than two? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Quickly, he examined his body: a long, worm-like form covered with countless legs. He felt like he had turned into a centipede. Maybe it was a dream? No—he could feel the air on his body. It was far too real. Was this a punishment from a god, or some higher being?

  His thoughts were interrupted by the cold glass pressing against his entire body. It felt like he was being pierced. Desperate, he tried to lift himself slightly to avoid freezing. After much struggle, he learned to control his legs. Not perfectly, but well enough to reduce the chill.

  Now that he was less cold, he studied himself. He didn’t have a shell. All centipedes had protective shells on their backs—but not him. His legs were thin, hard, and needle-like, bent slightly at the tips. But his back remained bare. After a closer examination, he realized he wasn’t truly a centipede.

  Focusing outward, he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a lab, a research facility. Rows of jars lined the shelves, each containing strange, unnatural insects. None looked normal. The jars were arranged meticulously, suggesting someone cleaned daily. Ingredients for experiments were absent, likely to prevent contamination if an insect escaped. The metallic scent of chemicals hit him, but he barely had time to notice as he heard voices.

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  Two researchers were talking nearby.

  “Experiment number 23 failed too. The boss will be angry. I guess we should have added more. A shame—this one showed potential. Throw it in the bin.”

  Looking around, he saw a bin with a note on it: “Food.”

  The other researcher tossed the insect into the bin.

  “Is there anything else for today? I seem to have misplaced my tablet.”“Let me check… No, not today. But tomorrow we have a lot of work. We need to prepare to extract all the information from insect number 20013-B.”“Okay, let’s go eat, then decide if we want to do anything today. That way, we’ll have less to do tomorrow.”“Alright.”

  As they left, he tried to process everything. A centipede-like body… two researchers… He immediately realized he was a test subject. Fear engulfed him again. What would they do to him? What was he for? Had they thrown the last insect in the bin to feed on it? He had to escape.

  He tested his movements—wiggling, twisting, crawling along the jar’s walls. He tried head-butting the lid, but nothing happened. Again and again, he struck, moving it only slightly. Fear of death loomed over him. If he couldn’t loosen the lid, he would have to break the glass. Inch by inch, head bump by head bump, he inched toward the end of the table.

  What felt like an eternity later, he finally reached the edge. As he celebrated, the door opened. The researchers returned, speaking loudly. His body froze, thinking he’d been caught. Fortunately, they were too distracted to notice him. With one last effort, he smashed the jar to the ground. No one had expected an insect to head-butt itself across the table to break free.

  The sound of the jar shattering drew the researchers’ attention. They ran to the noise—and found… a broken jar, but no insect in sight.

  Author’s note:

  1.

  "I would be very happy if anyone could give me tips on how to write, as I am new to writing and English is not my first language. I could redo this entire chapter under the title “Wrong Sentencing” and correct the other errors I make along the way."

  2.

  “I’m writing this for fun, just as a hobby, and I could stop at any moment. Thanks for reading along while I figure out where this story goes.”