Page 15 of Monstrous Rampage
Here in this prison, hunger and madness became one and the same. They thought to control me with starvation. Instead they only created their own worst nightmare.
They shouldn’t have attempted to control this predator by starving me. Because that only made me a bigger killer. When they finally fed me, they doped my prey with enough sedative to paralyze me for a few minutes. So they could run their fucking tests.
Fine. Fool me once.
I won’t eat again.
Until I either destroy myself—or this entire ship.
I didn’t need light to see the small creature they thought to bait me with this time. Not even a mouthful. Nothing big enough to rip apart. The meat was tainted with sedative, paralyzing it. As if I needed assistance with the kill. At least it was alive. For now. I detested dead meat.
Brief flashes flickered through my mind. Memories of freedom—even though they weren’t mine. Heat and humidity. Moist mud rich with decaying plant matter. Swampy watertangled with vines, ferns, and trees, creating a dark, verdant canopy. Blistering heat, dry sand, endless blowing wind that carried the scent of prey over hilly dunes out of sight over the horizon. Brutal white ice cracking beneath my massive weight. Snow patterned over my hide. Blood spreading like a river, winding through the drifts and crevices as I feasted.
Fragments imprinted on my DNA. Bits of other dyni who’d lived outside of a laboratory.
I’ve only ever known testing facilities, though they simulated some of the above scenes to determine my capabilities. My weaknesses.
I have none.
Which was exactly why they locked me in this sterile hole of a metal box. I wasn’t supposed to remember any of those experiments. They’d tried to wipe my memory countless times, but I remembered everything. Knowledge embedded into my DNA could not be removed, which was why I still remembered lives not even mine.
They couldn’t wipe my memory without breaking apart the very cells that made me what I am. Too valuable to destroy. Too terrible to release. Too dangerous to use.
Most of the time, I wandered those extreme planets in my mind. The tungsten holding cell prevented me from jumping to my freedom, but they couldn’t force me to shift. Perhaps it’d been a mistake to remain a monster for so long, especially in such close quarters. Even with my formidable memory, I barely recalled my other shape. What it felt like to be smaller. Walk upright on two legs. Speak.
Why would I care to communicate with words, when I could perfectly express my rage with my creature’s teeth and claws?
They would get nothing from me. No response. No communication. No more tests. No more experimental drugs or endurance experiments. No more attempted modifications.
My cells are mine. Leave me alone or let me die as the monster you created.
The food stirred. Its faint breathing steadied. Deepened. Muscles twitched as it fought to break from the drugs’ hold. A soft, fragile cry escaped its mouth.
Delicious. They certainly knew how to lure me.
Which was exactly why I resisted despite the agonizing hunger crawling through every cell in my body.
More sounds streamed out of its mouth. Melodic and rhythmic. Words.
It was trying to communicate with me. Curiosity burned nearly as viciously as my hunger. What kind of prey thought to talk to such a monster before its death?
Despite my best intentions, I allowed the necessary programming to activate so I could translate its words.
“Please don’t eat me. You’re dynos, designation BGR++. You’re supposed to be part of a squad. I’ve seen how dyni work together. I might be able to help. Please let me help you.”
It—female by the softer, higher pitch of her voice—knew key technical terms of my kind.
Which made her an agent of DSC.
My enemy.
A low growl trickled out before I could suppress it.
“No, please!” Her voice trembled with fear, but she pushed upright. Swaying, woozy from the drugs, she leaned against a wall for support. Despite her weakness, I could appreciate her attempt at facing the danger head on. “I’m not part of DSC. They kidnapped me from my planet. It’s called Earth. Have you heard of it? I’m not working with or for them. I’m just as much a prisoner as you.”
I blew out a hissing breath of disgust. Not a prisoner like me. Not unless she’d been held for so long that all other basic functions of life had faded into memory.
Like eating. Feasting. Blood on my tongue.
