Miraculously, I managed to get out of there with minimal injuries, most of my stitches were intact, and the mass grave broke the fall, so that wasn’t problematic either. What was a problem, however, was the scaled creature we recovered.
While it was unconscious, doctors took as many notes as possible. It turned out the sinuous strands weren’t sinew, but instead a series of thin, snakelike tongues that rested outside of the mouth. As far as we knew, the tongue tips were stationery, melding straight into the upper and lower lip.
Blood samples matched humans, though only the upper half of the body. Hypotheses were mostly similar, concluding that where the scales started, and down, was a separate, artificial addition. Its lower half was mostly closed off from its top half. Strangely, the lower half was cold-blooded, while the upper half was warm-blooded. The scaled half was at a constant 40°f, while the upper half was an unstable 90-94°f.
Somehow the Doctor had taken a human and twisted it into this… thing… Ted agreed not to terminate it, though I imagine for other reasons.
The Doctor told us to kill the creature, which I reasoned Ted would not comply with. Sure, that made him easy to predict, and likely easier to manipulate. But I knew he had a moral code, one I lacked. I hoped he could keep them for all our sakes.
I wished to keep the creature alive to extract any information from it, if possible. The creature had no ability to talk, and its motor skills had been largely compromised. With writing and English off the table, I mentioned the strange singing, and offered myself as a test subject. At that moment, this was our only lead. Or so I thought.
“Slow down Cyr. O’Neil, help him to the office down the hall, please.” Ted asked another one of the detectives who was in the loop. O’Neil obliged Ted, and helped me hop my way to the office, behind Ted.
O’Neil sat me across the desk from Ted, then closed the door on his way out. Ted drummed his fingers on his desk, a series of well kept, crisp papers in the center of the wooden surface. He chewed his lower lip for a few tense, silent moments, before sighing a deep, defeated sigh.
“While you were out of commission, we recovered quite a number of experiment logs, including one which we suspect concerns the creature down the hall.” Ted began, frowning something mighty.
“Can we do anything for it?!” I blurted, surprising myself. Something inside of me grew warm, an emotion I’d come to learn to call hope.
“Unless we convince the Doctor to undo his work, most certainly not.” Ted’s frown sank beyond a grimace, into a look of exhaustion and agony. It was a look I’d come to know very well as of recent.
“What can we do for it?” I pressed, ignoring his clear troubled state. Again, I didn’t know where this concern stemmed from. I never cared about anything on a personal level, so why was this monster so important to me?
“We’ll do what we can, but it’s been brutally and irrevocably changed. It’s chances at life aren’t great.” Ted delivered this into a monotone, lifeless voice. He had mentally checked out of this conversation.
“If it’s possible, I would like to check in on it as frequently as possible, sir.” I spoke with a confidence and commitment that most certainly was not my own.
“Cyr, don’t kill yourself trying to he a hero. I’ll let you make your own decisions, you’ve earned that privilege. Just don’t lose anything else. One leg is already too high a price to pay, and you’re offering your life. I can’t lead any more people down that path,” Ted heaved in a deep breath, water welling at the corners of his eyes, before he wiped them away. “We found something that might be very practical for you, as well. It’s being analyzed to ensure it is safe, but you may yet have two legs.”
I didn’t know what to say. I knew there were artificial limbs, but I hadn’t even considered the possibility of a replacement. I’d been so fixated, I probably forgot to shower and eat occasionally. “Thank you, sir?” I said, unsure of what to say to that. I pushed myself upright, leaning on my crutch. As I turned around, Ted appeared at my side, offering his shoulder.
We made our way back up the hall, and I was laid in the empty bed next to the creature. The room had been soundproofed, ensuring only I would hear what came from the creature. The wall had been replaced with one way glass, and the ventilation had been rerouted so a sleeping agent could be administered if the creature had to be sedated.
I hadn’t eaten, in case I would need to be anesthetized, and I allowed the nurse to stick the IV in my arm. At that, everyone left the room, everyone but myself, the creature, and Ted.
“I won’t give you a ‘you don’t have to do this’ speech, Cyr. I just hope you know what you’re doing. Good luck,” Ted slid out into the hall, before I had a chance to respond. The door clicked shut behind him, then the lights in the room intensified. I fluttered my eyes to get used to the brightness in the room, then spoke.
“Hey there, um, do you understand me?” I tried, unsure.
The creature tilted its head in my direction, then held their head there.
I took this as confirmation that it understood me on some level. “My name is Cyr, do you have a name?” I tried, talking slowly and as clearly as I could.
The web over its mouth began to glow in bright shades of greens and blues, then the song began moments later. Like before, there were no words. There was no rhyme or reason behind the disjointed syllables it spat through its split tongue covered mouth. The only sign that the creature was responsible for the sound at all was that the colors grew brighter when it produced hard sounds, and softer when it pronounced easier ones.
The hypnotic humming melody washed over me, as it had previously. This time, though, I was aware of myself. No haze fell over my sense, no control was stolen from me. The weak syllables came in a ryhtmless jumble, but the message was clear.
[No name… am I safe…?]
The somber melody left my heart slightly aching, as I answered honestly. “You are safe from the bad man, but no. There are many things we need to learn in order to make you safe…” I paused, carefully considering how to ask the next question. “Can you help us?”
Jesus, was Ted rubbing off on me? As remarkably untactful as I was, the creature seemed receptive.
[There are many… many… many… too many of us… I will do all I can to return the gift… I am grateful to have my life… thank you…]
I felt tears begin to well up at the corners of my eyes, though I myself felt nothing. I felt hollow in that moment. I never felt anything for anyone, and in that moment, that fact stabbed me square in my heart. I never had any intentions to change, but my lack of humanity hit hard in that moment. I was worse than a literal monster. This scaled abomination had more humanity inside than I did. And that was something I had to protect.
In that moment, I decided I needed to read up on as many of the files we’d recovered as possible. I needed to know the safest way to apprehend as many of the test subjects as possible, and how best to sustain them. It didn’t matter what it took. I had to save as many of them from the Doctor as I could.
For the next two hours we went back and forth, asking each other questions, though I did most of that. I learned that it ate both human food, and could stomach most food a fish could eat. The creature did not recall much before it woke up on a table, where presumably the Doctor loomed just out of their field of view.
I learned that the doctor had others very similar to this creature, which he referred to as Sirens. Since this creature did not know its own name, I suggested Ren, from Siren.
After a break in the song over a couple minutes, it picked back up. Ren agreed.
Over the remaining time in physical therapy, I had received my new leg. I couldn’t wear it around the station, and couldn’t show it off, but I had a mostly functional new lower left leg.
As soon as it felt comfortable against my stump, I cringed. The socket tightened around my knee, until it was flush with my former leg. The doctors panicked at first when they saw me wince, and the prosthetic change shape. I suppose they had not expected this to happen. In all fairness, I doubt anyone could have.
Back on two feet, I set out on my mission. I spent my downtime reading through as many files as I could, and collected records of all sorts. The Doctor seemed to have a consistent ideal target. Mentions of labs all lined up with poorer areas and low traffic regions. Like his swamp lab, I suspected he had labs hidden in similar areas. I ran my suspicions by Ted, which went over smoother than anticipated, to be honest.
“Cyr, if you so much as think about thinking about going in one of those alone, I’ll chop off your other leg myself!” He shouted, slamming his hands on his desk and jumping to his feet.
“Is that a yes, sir?” I pressed, tapping my prosthetic foot. I was supposed to flex it as frequently as possible, to make sure I got used to it. So my nervous tic was practical, I suppose.
“Take these and these, and don’t die” Ted sighed in defeat, tossing two sets of keys to me. “There’s a cache of his weapons in the basement. Take what you feel comfortable using. If you see him, run, call me.”
I collected a dozen weapons listed in the files, along with the rounds and batteries they required. Six trips from the basement to my new vehicle later, I felt confident I could face a few monstrosities, or a few dozen.
The dear old Doctor was kind enough to leave a formula for a powerful sedative, which I requested to have turned into a projectile. Two of my new weapons were short and long ranged tranquilizers. Another was a baton that had a needle on one end, so I could administer sedatives that way.
I hoped I wouldn’t need to use them any time soon, though things would not turn out that way.
I set out from the hospital, getting acquainted with the larger turn radius of my new car. I made sure Dean would check in on Ren while I was away, and promised to Ren I would rescue more of them, without losing my life. Spoiler, I’m alive and writing this, so promise sort of kept.
First on my list of potential sites of interest was an abandoned bridge. The stream it once was used to cross had long since dried up, so it was left there, forgotten. The perfect place to sleep under, and the perfect place to discreetly hide a base.
I parked my truck about 200 feet from the bridge. The sun had maybe three hours left in it before sundown, insects were swarming, frogs were croaking, and birds were chirping. The bridge itself had largely been reclaimed by nature. Vines snakes along the rails, moss grew along its surface. The wood was barely visible through all the foliage.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, cluing me in as to what was unseen. I drew my M1911 along with my short ranged tranquilizer, then scoped out the area.
Not even a minute later, I felt a tremor beneath my feet. A gravelly, painful sounding voice shouted out “why have you come!?” A grotesque, green hand larger than my head clawed out from under the bridge, causing even more tremors. “Spit it out, little one!”
“Sightseeing” I spat, reaching up to my radio and pressing the ‘sos’ button. The earliest I would get backup was five minutes. I reached around for one of my heavier firearms, grabbing for my Benelli.
Judging by its colossal mitt, this creature was gargantuan. I knew a measly pistol wouldn’t be effective, and I’d need an absurd amount of tranquilizers to put it down. My best bet was to go for its knees.
I holstered both of my pistols, then trained the shotgun as I took calculated steps forwards. Three steps later, and a second hand emerged. The tremors this time were twice as violent, nearly knocking me over. “Liars are die-ers!” The creature screeched, exploding up and through the bridge as it pushed itself with its hands.
Ted, I humbly apologize for calling you an idiot.
The bumbling jackass behemoth towered maybe twenty feet in the air, glowering down at me. It threw one titanic foot forwards, then another. Each bound it took brought it a good ten feet closer. Each step allowed me to see just how hideous it truly was.
Patchy hair was scattered across its body. Where there was hair, it was thicker than any hair I’d ever seen. It’s hair was thicker than a broom, I swear to god. Its yellowed teeth protruded out from its lower jaw, due to its massive underbite. Four steps later, its pungent breath hit me all at once. My eyes burned, my nostrils caught fire in sheer odorous agony.
As the giant came within sixty feet, my nerves were nearly numb. Despite this, I steadied my aim as best I could. With quaking arms, I pulled the trigger.
PIGHEW buckshot scattered out towards the lumbering creature’s right knee, shredding it. The beast stumbled, falling on its good knee.
“Bastard!” It wailed, slapping its fists on the ground in a tantrum. “I’ll rip you apart!” It screeched, voice cracking to higher and higher pitches. Its chest heaved stronger and stronger, as though hyperventilating. If steam could puff from its ears, I imagined it would be at that moment.
To my utmost horror, the shredded knee began stitching itself together, right before my very eyes. Fragments of buckshot dribbled out of the wounds, pattering on the ground like rain droplets. Half a minute later, the brute rose on its nearly fully restored leg.
Froth dripped from the corners of its mouth. It pounced its bowling ball sized fists into its chests while roaring out in an animalistic challenge. Its eyes bulged and faded to white, as if entering a blind rage.
In that instant, reinforcements were at least four minutes away. I needed to fill as much time as possible. In a split second of mulling over my situation, I fired, fired, and fired again.
SMICK SCHLUCK SQUICK three batches of buckshot squelched into its body. Caught off guard, the goliath fell harder than a tree, crashing backwards and causing a violent quake. The ground cracked and crumbled, like a shin sheet of ice in early winter.
The beast disappeared into the hidden area beneath the bridge. I prayed it couldn’t climb back out, but didn’t hatch any bets. I threw my Benelli onto the passenger seat, lunged into the driver’s seat, and put the truck into gear.
I reversed at top speed, nearly getting tossed from the vehicle as I took a turn too sharp. I reached out and wrenched the door shut, hoping that would at least catch me if I took another turn like that.
That was the wrong call.
CREE my truck pried a street sign from the ground, scraping the underside as I plowed over it. I kept picking up speed, blindly fondling for the broadcast button, so the team knew my location.
Thundering footfalls sent my car bouncing, skidding and nearly spinning out of control. In a desperate attempt to regain command of the steering, I turned into it, spinning a full 180, and shifting gear. I floored it, shifting from first to second, third, fourth, and fifth gear in under a minute. The tremors aided me in accelerating, but the winding road negated my speed.
I kept swerving to stay on the road, narrowly dodging trees left to grow too close to the road. I cursed the poor maintenance of the pavement as I both heard and felt a tire rupture from a pothole. The front end buckled, slamming hard against the ground. The front right bumper flew up, smashing into the windshield and bouncing off into the trees.
Great way to discover the windshield was some sort of reinforced. All the collision did was leave a scrape and a few scratches across the windshield. Nothing I couldn’t work with.
An excruciating roar penetrated the tree line. To my left, the twenty foot tall titan erupted from the trees, the remains of my bumper lodged square in its lower abdomen. The berserker dislodged the bumper shrapnel, leaving a hollow gash through its stomach. The bumper had impaled it cleanly, and all it did was whine.
The beast hurled the debris at my beaten vehicle, slashing the side as I veered into another turn. My blood pressure was deafening, the terror was almost entirely blinding. In that moment, that vehicle was driven by one thing. Instinct.
Instinct, however, was a natural force. I was pinned against something so disgustingly abhorrent and unnatural, instinct had no place. Unable to string together any semblance of logic or sound reasoning, I lost track of myself.
I missed the unlicensed, turret mounted vehicles as they passed me. I did not notice the spike strips as they burst my remaining three tires. I felt nothing of the grinding, sparking skid as my vehicle slid on its exposed rims. I was too far in shock to respond as I was pulled from my vehicle, and laid on what later became known as a stretcher. Back then, we were guinea pigs, if I’m being honest.
As with the first lab, I was not able to be involved in the investigation. Instead, I was cuffed to a hospital bed. Ted said he needed a leash because he knew I wouldn’t stay there. I hate to admit it, but he read me right. The fact that that idiot read me pissed me off the most.
For the record, I did escape with my life. The infection from exposure to that rancid beast, however, did its best to prevent that. I’d later learn that that thing was what the Doctor referred to as a ‘Troll.’ Christ almighty do I despise trolls.