“Dr. Matten? Are you still there?” I couldn't help myself, I smacked the cheap microphone on the desk, pretending it did any good. I jumped when the image of the pudgy, balding man in the stereotypical lab coat blinked on the laptop screen. His glasses low on his thick nose, attempting to look very disgusted or showing contempt for whoever was on the other side of his screen.
“Of course I am. Where ELSE am I supposed to be on a Saturday evening at this time?” I really hated that egg-head. Most egg-heads actually. Part of me wishes they were egg-heads, literally. Uh oh. Aggressive thoughts. Since I’ve been in this sterile, sanitized tin can of a room, I’ve been feeling punchy, but feeling like I want to put some cracks into the egg shell of the docs’ heads. Time for a blood test. My fingers and wrist were already starting to bruise, but that’s a price for…whatever this is. I grabbed the lancet and pierced a spare piece of my flesh, added the tiny sample of my life-force to the glass slide and sent it through the slit in the wall near the offending laptop.
“Here’s another one. Sample number 67.”
“Think you might have had another symptom?”
“Yeah.”
“What was it?”
I eyed the glowering doctor, still staring at the cam, allowing himself to blink occasionally to prove he might actually be human, while I listened to the disembodied voice somewhere behind or beside him.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d rather not say. I just thought I should test again.”
Long pause. Though it was protocol to put microphones on mute, I swear that I heard whispering. Wait. No. It hasn’t been very long between this and another symptom. No, I just won’t say anything. “Okay, Jesse. We’ll take your word for it this time, but please let us know if you feel any more symptoms in the future. Thanks for the sample. We’ll work on it along with the others.”
I leaned back in the chair. Pudgy leaned over to one side, looking at whoever might be the mystery voice. He clearly disapproved of that last statement, but he seemed to submit to the mystery voice. Odd. Odder and odder. I opened the journal and continued writing, recording the prequel to this situation.
Humans have known of the existence of vampires, werewolves, demonic spirits, faerie and even witches (no, not at all like Wiccans in the New Age book sections in stores) for a few years now since a so-called “reformed” werewolf showed up at a CIA office willing to show his abilities. He not only told about himself and bands of his ilk, but the above named creatures of the night, mid-day, etc.. Since then, government agencies have been established to test randomly captured specimens for testing. Not exactly, but almost like in the wildlife shows where they were tagged and released. Instead, the researchers contracted by the government agencies wanted to find ways to check to see if a faithful, tax-providing citizen has been infected by these monsters.
I was on a walk through the woods, on my way back to my campsite near some woods. The news had broke about the existence of these creatures, but I and my buddies from work were determined to go on our planned fishing trip anyway to this part of the Catskill mountains. I looked at my watch and reeled my line in, packed up my bait, poured out my beer on the sand and walked quick back to camp. I saw the sunset, but I knew that I needed to get back before dark. While the rest of my party dismissed the news stories, I took them seriously. Jake, my old supervisor, brought garlic and silver bracelets…”just in case”. We usually taunted him for his over-cautious nature, but this time, I knew he might have a point. I walked briskly, keeping an eye on the setting sun. Normally, I’d actually take time to admire the colors, thinking of how life is so short, but I’d prefer not to know exactly HOW short my life could be. Newsfeeds could be very convincing. Oh well. I didn’t catch anything anyway. Maybe the fish were as spooked as I am. Maybe we were, without admitting it.
A few feet away, I heard screaming and growling.
“No. No! Jake! Kale! Mickey!” I was screaming myself as I ran, dropping my $150 tackle box and even pricier rod and reel. That….was true fear. That was, until I saw the swaths of red on the ground, the trees and on the smoking campfire. Mixed with something that could have been body parts, organs. I walked slowly around the carnage, smelling, and now feeling underfoot, what were likely my friends. My work-brothers-in-arms. I wanted to scream some more. Scream to some uncaring, unfeeling divine thing over my head, probably laughing at my suffering, but I could only give up gasps, sputtering, my fingers in my hair, wanting to tear it all out. Maybe wanting some kind of sympathy pain to show my companions that I was suffering.
I never got the chance.
The teeth from the bite were a pain unlike anything I had experienced before. So were the claws that grasped my arms and my head. I didn’t have the frame of mind to scream as I felt my neck muscles being ripped apart. The blood loss making me go limp in the paws that held me up before I blacked out.
I woke up days later, according to a lab-coat wearing woman, talking down platitudes at me as I felt myself, or my remains maybe, being carted somewhere under maybe pulsing lights. Between the “You’re going to be alright Jesse”s and “Hang in there, be strong”s, I could hear her say to somebody, “Yes, definitely a lupin bite, but something else. I can’t tell from the depth of the bite. Not vampire, either. This is odd.” I guess she saw me looking through my bleary eyes at her and the other masked individuals surrounding me, and saw my legs stirring under either my wet-feeling clothes, or damp blanket. “Oh my. He’s waking up again? He’s barely got 2 liters of blood in him. What is this?” After some mumbles, “No, he’s not transforming, but he’s not dying either. His vitals are actually stabilizing. I don’t understand this. His BP is 50 over 30 but his temperature is 98.5. Is he actually hearing all of this? Remarkable!” Last words before I blacked out again. Maybe a mercy from how I felt. I guess all her tests and guesses didn’t show the skull-cracking headache I’ve been carrying since I woke up…whereever.. and the feelings of wanting to get up and kill everybody in the room.
I woke up in a recliner, arms and legs bound to it and my mouth gagged. Headache gone, and actually feeling somewhat okay. Bright lights tried to blind me, the annoying smell of antiseptic threatened to make me sneeze as well. I felt a chill in the air, what could be the normal feel of hospital A/C, but I felt warm inside. Every fiber of my being hated it here. All I wanted to do was run through the woods after the sunset and I set aside my fishing pole, not caring if I caught anything or not. On all fours. What was wrong with me? Was the newsfeed right? And worse, I think that I’ve been bitten, so now what?
I said that last part out loud for whatever reason… “now what?”
“Yes, indeed. Now what, Jesse.” I left my self-reflection and looked around the white and gray room. Walls white, trim in what looked like metal grey, an outline that looked like a door and a massive darkened mirror. The voice came from behind me from one of the two men in scrubs, masked with dark glasses on. They came around in front of me, adjusting their rubber gloves as one of them talked. I couldn’t tell which of their masks betrayed their speaking exhales. “You’re a unique specimen. We’ve never seen anyone damaged as much as you recuperate this fast.”
“Am I going to be a werewolf or something??” I hoped that I didn’t sound as panicked as that sentence sounded from my mouth.
“At this point, we’re not sure. While the bite marks on your neck showed wolf, there were some other marks that we can’t seem to identify.”
“So what’s on the news is right? That there are….those in the world?”
I heard what might have been a chuckle. Seriously? Dude.
“Yes, indeed. For medical science, it’s been a challenge. We’ve almost isolated the cause of lycanthropy, but vampirism and even the so-called magic for witches still eludes us. They’ve proven to be even far more dangerous to capture than werewolves.” I heard a subtle shudder from whoever the speaker was. He might not even have been in the room. This was getting as creepy as whatever was happening to me.
“What do you want from me? More blood? Some psych tests? I can already tell you that I’m feeling crazy right now.”
“Not exactly, but that’s correct. I’d like to run an observation on you. A mix of…psych…and some blood tests. Only using a lancet on your fingers or hand if you want. We’ll free you and provide you with a laptop so you can interact with us face to face and we can provide some games and books to keep you occupied. I’m sorry to say that we would require at least a week. We can provide a bed for your rest as well.”
I paused, looking around at my prison, or petri dish, or something. “What if I want out of here?”
“Jesse, you may be infected with something we still don’t understand. You survived massive trauma, even if this was a standard werewolf attack, you’d be dead now. He didn’t bite you to make more wolves, he was out to kill you. But, you’re here so that’s what we need to find out.”
“Am I going to smell like a wet dog when it rains. Is that what you're wanting to know?” I could have sworn that I heard one of the scrub-masked men snicker.
“Yes. That and are you going to rip us all to shreds and drink of our blood and cast curses on us all at once. While we hold our noses, of course.”
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to laugh or beg to let me out. So I may chase down some scared rabbit. Wait. Not again. “Okay. Let's start with the poking and prodding. What books do you have? Movies? Dracula meets the Wolfman?”
So now here we are. Pudgy turned around to one side and sat unmoving like he was studying something more interesting than my mysterious survival. I shrugged and went back to my YouTube scrolling.
“So, we think he's the one. Fascinating. I hoped for someone able to read above a fifth grade level.” Neville's long fingernail tapped his cheek in thought and disappointment.
“Oh just chill, old timer. You said yourself that we'll have no idea who the test subject will be. The elders said that when the hybrid escaped, we would have to wait until he just showed up at a hospital. Too bad we kept having to slaughter mortal humans.”
It is still so…repugnant to me to mix our kind. I suppose it's for the best if we're all to survive.” Neville sighed, only giving a cursory glance at Brandon Melvin, sitting limp in the chair. Two large holes in his neck, very little blood lost. “The tests are looking positive that he may not be the one, I think. So as the mortal humans say, let's do it, to it.”
Dylon shook his head, licking his stained lips. “Well, I'll admit that he and his redneck friends were tasty. You don't know what you missed. He grinned up at his unamused comrade and spoke into the microphone. “Jesse? Sorry to interrupt your scrolling, but could you give us another sample and then I think we can let you go. We really appreciate all that you've given us.
“Sure. No problem. So do you know what I am or what's going on with me? Guys? Hello?”
As Jesse pricked his finger again, the door opening slowly, with a thick, opaque darkness behind
it was the last sound that Jesse heard and felt.
