Page 13 of Monsters within Men
“We wanted to watch Professor Forrest in front of a class,” Splat quipped, earning a glare from Noah.
Noah swiped the screen to the next image.
Frankie jumped back in her chair, raising her hand to her mouth. A high definition photograph of a dead typeA, on a metal table, filled the screen. A gaping hole in its head alluded to a gunshot wound. Its lips, twisted up into the ghost of a smile, were the only human thing about it. The monster’s purplish arms, positioned above its head, made it seem like the monster was begging for mercy. The arms bulged grotesquely at odd angles but even more disturbing still was the clots of gore clinging to a shredded, bloated stomach.
Zeke’s own stomach clenched at the sight of the dried blood, but he forced himself to not look away. After all, he’d be seeing sights a lot worse than this during his time here.
Noah zoomed in on its head. Clumps of missing hair near its forehead revealed a blotchy, scaly scalp. Looking closely, they could see the tips of a row of sharp fangs protruding out from its lips.
“TypeA,” Noah said to his silent audience.
“Jesus Christ,” Frankie said, her eyes saucer-wide.
Noah shot her an incredulous look. “Have you never seen one before?”
“Yeah, of course I have. It’s just…” Frankie was rendered speechless for once.
“I’ve seen them. In real life I mean,” Zeke said. “We got to dissect loads in my lab.” That was a slight lie. He’d come across two dead typeAs in his years at Oakfield and only to watch people far more senior than him interact with them.
“Great!” said Noah, too enthusiastic. “Do you want to give us a brief rundown on their physiology?”
This guy was taking his role far too seriously now.
Zeke turned to face Frankie as if he was just speaking to her. “TypeA is the name for the beast-like version of the mutants, who exhibit primitive behaviour. They have limited executive functioning and therefore lack the ability to think logically. However, their body mass is often up to forty percent bigger than their average human counterparts. In optimal conditions, they routinely reach twenty kilometres per hour. As well as a completely new set of teeth—” he gestured to the screen, and Noah zoomed into the mouth, “—typeAs also experience phenomenally quick muscle growth in every area of their body. Their metabolism changes as well, but we probably don’t need to go into that?” Zeke looked at Noah.
“Thank you, Bates.”
Zeke’s traitorous stomach fluttered with pride.
Noah clicked forward on his presentation to bring up a table on the screen which listed typeA attributes. “Like Zeke said, they rely on base-driven instincts. We often take strategic advantage of this. They tend to crawl on hands and feet, though they are adept climbers. There’s certainly something about them that makes them feel more animal than human.”
“Unlike typeBs?” Frankie asked. Noah brought up a second photograph. This time, the body on the metal table was slightly more recognisably person-shaped.
“Bates?”
“The evolved strain of the Rapid Onset Neurotransmutation Syndrome virus, that developed six years ago, produces a slightly more humanoid physique. They lack the bulbous growths that are seen in typeAs, and only develop about twenty percent more muscle mass.” Zeke cringed at himself. He sounded like a walking scientific journal.
“So are they easier to kill?” asked Noah, his gaze boring into Zeke.
“Fuck no,” said Splat. “They’re still physically incredibly strong, and they possess a great deal more of intelligence.”
Noah nodded. “TypeBs have enough self-restraint to bite their victim without eating so much of their flesh they die. They seem to understand the importance of allowing the victim to develop into another typeB. They can also perform simple cognitive tasks, like twisting door knobs.”
“Some can even talk, right?” Frankie asked, eyes wide.
“Sort of. Baby-like babbling, I guess.” Vitt leaned back in her chair, chewing a strand of her long, brown hair, looking thoughtful. “But there’s not really much time to strike up conversation with them. Although we hardly need to ask them about their favourite drink.” She cackled to herself like it was the most hilarious thing in the world.
Noah ran his hand through his hair and sighed. As if on cue, Wolf trotted over to him and sat on his haunches. “It’s almost five. Time for his run. I’ll meet you guys in the showers.”
With a single flick of his wrist, Noah commanded Wolf to follow him out of the room.
“You’ve survived day one,” said Vitt, clapping Zeke on the back.
And only fainted once,Zeke added.Great work.
They bumped into the other five members of Squad E outside the shower block. After grabbing their ‘off duty’ clothes, Splat made them walk all the way to the bathroom on the fourth floor. Apparently, it was way quieter and only used by a few squads. A man they hadn’t met yet was standing with Savannah, Aoife, Habib and Meredith. Zeke guessed it could only be the infamous Luo, who’d caused Splat to become enraged twice this morning. Luo, taller than Splat but not a patch on Habib, was Asian, with short dark hair, a shaven face and a friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you. You look exhausted,” Luo said, as they entered the male bathroom. Luo reached out to shake his hand, and Zeke froze for a moment, shocked by the shiny gleam of his bionic right arm. Its cool fingers gripped Zeke’s with flawless dexterity.
