The Experiment

The routine was simple: heat, turn, tap, repeat.
There seemed to be no point, no real reason for the effort, until the day something inside of one of the eggs tapped back.
I didn't know what to do when I heard that tapping. There was no one I could call for guidance, for all communication into or out of the lab was prohibited.
A dumb rule for a lab that usually only had two people maintaining the experiments at any given time.
At least, we usually had two people here, but Jeff had left a half-hour ago because of a lingering tomach bug.
So I was alone with no chance of support until the next shift came in two hours from now.
Would I even still be here in two hours, or would whatever is tapping inside the egg have eaten me by then?
I didn't even know what was supposed to be in the egg. It was part of a clutch they had found in some classified location, a location that had apparently been cold enough that the eggs had arrived at the lab frozen within chunks of ice.
Tap tap tap.
Wait, is that a crack?
It is.
I'm pretty sure this is the time to panic.
If I was actually a scientist, I'd probably be excited right now.
But no, silly little me just had to agree to some extra credit work to raise my grade in science.
It was supposed to be boring grunt work! That kind of stuff where they get someone of normal intelligence to do stuff as a "control", so that they can get all excited when the real subjects of the experiment prove to be vastly superior.
The crack was getting larger, and the tapping more insistent.
These were my final moments. I was going to die a pain death.
I just hoped the thing killed me before it tries eating me.
A sharp crack rang through the room, and eggshell fragments fell to unto the table.
Bright red eyes stared into me, and I knew I was a goner.
The red eyes blinked, and then in a movement to fast for my eyes to track, the thing had left its broken shell and attaches itself to my face.
"Ah!" I shouted, Reaching up to grab the thing even as I tensed in anticipation of further pain.
But other then pricks of pain where its claws were keeping it pinned to my face, the creature didn't seem to be attacking.
My fingers felt fur, of all things, covering the creature. And it seems to be purring.
"Well," I said, my voice shaking with an anxious laugh at how I wasn't dead yet. "If something is furry, digs its claws into your flesh, and purrs, then it must be some sort of cat."
The newly dubbed cat purred louder as I hesitantly pet it, hoping that by doing so, it might decide not to eat me in the tine it took for help to arrive.