Monster (10)

—This is impossible.

That was the thought that flashed through Xue Ning's mind as the man drew near.

Her gaze fell upon him. He was tall and broad-shouldered, standing before her with a presence so imposing that his silhouette seemed to blot out all the light around her. His jawline was sharp, his lips a pale red; by all accounts, he should have been a handsome man. But that was not what mattered. His neck and eyes were likewise shrouded in shadow, a deep gloom that blocked her searching gaze. His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times, and though his skin ought to have been smooth, faint glimmers seemed to flicker across it.

Driven by an indescribable fear, Xue Ning had never dared to look at him closely.

Her eyelids twitched violently.

That ominous premonition surged up once more, so intense that her breath caught painfully in her throat.

A damp air she knew all too well seeped into her nostrils. Drip, drip, drip—her eyes fixed on the man’s feet, where a crystalline, viscous liquid pooled into a shallow puddle. She recognized it instantly. It was the secretion of the Slaughterer, the same liquid produced by the experimental subject of Chamber 01.

—This is impossible.

Xue Ning’s gaze darkened. The man bent down before her, his hood casting his expression into shadow. She held her breath, then suddenly lashed out, kicking hard at his kneecap.

A dull thud echoed.

Pain shot up her leg, making her bare her teeth. His knee was as hard as iron, and a throbbing ache gnawed at the sole of her foot.

But there was no turning back now. Gritting her teeth, Xue Ning forced herself to kick at his waist, but before she could land a blow, the man sidestepped. Seizing the opportunity, she spun and sprinted into the distance, a metallic tang flooding her throat. Her legs felt as though they were wading through mud, but she dared not stop. She ran and ran, not daring to look back.

Only when the gates of the X Research Institute came into view did she double over, gasping for air.

Her nerves were so frayed that she failed to notice the strangeness of the institute. Assistants on break were not supposed to have entry privileges at the gate. Xue Ning approached the security window, but it was unmanned. She waited a moment, then dialed the institute’s number—no answer. Not even the researcher in charge of her picked up.

Things were looking grim.

She thought she heard footsteps echoing nearby. Unable to get inside, Xue Ning could only run toward the security office. But matters only worsened. On the road leading to the office, the man was standing there, silent, waiting.

Even with his hood up, Xue Ning knew he was watching her.

Clenching her jaw, she turned and fled in the opposite direction.

She dared not go home, and thought to hide somewhere near the institute, but the man seemed to know the roads as well as she did. He always appeared ahead of her. Forced to dodge and weave, Xue Ning soon realized with dread that he was herding her, and before she knew it, he had driven her into a residential area.

He advanced toward her, the apartment building at her back. She glanced around, despairing, then retreated into the stairwell. The narrow, dimly lit corridor offered nowhere to hide. She ran upstairs, footsteps pounding, flung open a door, and slammed it shut behind her.

Bang—

The footsteps in the hall were cut off.

Xue Ning leaned back against the door, gasping. The footsteps that had so unnerved her had vanished, but her anxiety did not ease. She knew this flimsy door could never keep him out.

What should she do?

Perhaps, she thought, she was being paranoid.

But that self-deceiving hope was dashed almost instantly. Xue Ning’s eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the sticky liquid seep in through the crack beneath the door, glistening and viscous like a creeping mire. Clenching her fists, she struggled to suppress the violent tremor coursing through her. The room was not cold, yet she shivered as if submerged in ice.

What should she do?

She had no idea.

Frantically, Xue Ning fumbled for her communicator, dialed the institute over and over.

At the same time, a slow, deliberate knocking sounded at the door.

Thud, thud, thud.

Her heart leapt wildly, as if about to burst from her chest.

Thud, thud, thud.

Xue Ning stared at her phone screen. Pick up… please, pick up…

Thud, thud, thud.

Time dragged on, long enough for her to sense the impatience of the man outside. The knocking grew rapid, a staccato barrage that battered her eardrums. She mechanically tapped the call button.

Still no answer.

At that moment, a cold, somber voice drifted through: “Open the door.”

Xue Ning’s legs buckled. She sank to the floor, silently assuring herself that she was not insane. There was no way she would open that door herself, not even knowing it offered no real protection. If, for some inexplicable reason, he could not enter unless she invited him in, then perhaps she was safe. Many horror stories worked that way—a door could sometimes ward off harm.

But, after all, this was not a horror story. The man was not some supernatural being. To him, the door was just a flimsy piece of wood.

Xue Ning watched in terror as the viscous fluid enveloped the lock. With a faint hissing, the lock began to corrode, swelling as if overripe, the liquid clinging to it like plump juice. The lock bulged, strained, and, just as it seemed about to fall apart, her phone screen flickered.

The call connected—

A weary voice came through: “Xue Ning.”

She was silent.

The researcher continued, “…You were right. I regret not listening to you. My blindness has led to this.”

No prompting was needed. Remorse flooded the researcher’s voice: “…The subject of Chamber 01 is missing.”

“The institute has been on lockdown all day because of this. Not just us—the security office staff have all been transferred here, but we’ve found no trace of the subject from Chamber 01. The other subjects remain stable for now…”

“But… it’s just a façade. If he’s already left the institute and entered the residential area, there’s no telling what horrors might ensue.”

Xue Ning’s lips trembled. He was already here.

The researcher said, “I regret not heeding your warnings. I apologize for my actions. The subject from Chamber 01 was once Researcher Chen, and he held the highest level of clearance. Escaping from Chamber 01 was never a problem for him. Many of the lab’s devices were made with his involvement. We should have realized sooner.”

She paused, then added in confusion, “But… I can’t understand. If he used his clearance to leave, that means he retained the researcher’s memories. If he still possesses the researcher’s consciousness, then what state is he in now?”

“We cannot determine how dangerous he is. You were once his assigned assistant. If you spot him in the residential area, report it immediately. The professor is coming—I’ll hang up unless you have an emergency.”

Xue Ning blinked, silent.

The man removed his hood, revealing a strikingly handsome face. His eyes burned crimson, his gaze clinging to her with an intensity like glue. Her right hand curled into a fist, empty; her phone hovered in the air, ensnared by a slender, flexible tail.

The tail was covered in fine scales, each one slightly flared, with droplets of fluid falling from them.

The floor beneath them became slick and sticky in an instant.

At a time like this, it was best not to provoke him.

Only the institute could deal with this situation, but Xue Ning was terrified. If she called for help on the phone, by the time anyone arrived, all they would find would be her corpse.

She smothered her fear and kept silent.

She reasoned, after all, she had cared for him for months. Surely, there was some sentiment there? If he retained the researcher’s memories, perhaps if she begged, she could survive?

The trouble was, no one knew the true state of the experimental subject from Chamber 01—was he a monster who devoured memories, or a mutated human who still retained consciousness?

If he was a monster, nothing she did could save her. If he was a mutant with a mind, perhaps there was room to maneuver.

“Chen…”

Xue Ning realized she didn’t know his full name.

“Researcher Chen…”

Still seated on the floor—she had no strength to rise, her legs were limp—she looked up at the man, who stood only half an arm’s length away.

The door closed behind him.

Drip, drip, drip.

A pool of sticky liquid spread from beneath the man’s feet, flowing toward Xue Ning, coating the palm she braced against the floor. The crystalline secretion gathered into a shallow puddle, filling the air with a damp, metallic scent.

The shadow that had smothered her slowly receded. The man crouched, bringing himself within a fist’s breadth of her. Crimson veining flooded his eyes, like shattered gemstones veined with cracks, making even her own reflection in them seem fragmented.

“Hello.”

His lips curved into a perfect smile. “My name is Chen Song.”

…What did that mean?

Just as hope began to flicker in Xue Ning’s eyes, thinking he still possessed a human mind, the tail behind the man reached out, curling around her wrist. It was cold, slick, and clammy, the scales arranged as neatly as those on a snake, raising goosebumps all over her skin.

The tail brushed her palm. Xue Ning glanced down—her skin was pale, her palm abraded and bleeding from friction. The tip of the tail gathered up the blood, and her gaze followed it back to the man’s face.

The bloodied tip of the tail circled his neck; his eyes fixed unblinkingly on her, his pale lips parted. A smear of vivid blood stained his lips, and then, with a slight movement, he licked the blood from the tip of his tail into his mouth.

Throughout it all, his eyes never left her face. Xue Ning went rigid, feeling as though, in his eyes, she was nothing but a delicious meal. That possessive, oppressive gaze sent shudders through her.

She recalled a video once shown to her by a researcher: after Researcher Chen’s death, he had awakened and gathered up the remains of the Slaughterer, licking every fragment clean before sighing in contentment.

What normal person would eat the corpse of a Slaughterer?

Xue Ning took a deep breath, her palm tingling where the tail had encircled it. She forced herself to ignore her discomfort and asked bluntly, “Are you Researcher Chen?”

The man nodded. “Yes, I am Chen Song.”

“Do you still remember what it is to be human?”

He nodded again. “Yes.”

“Then you…”

The man stared directly at her. Suddenly, his tail tore apart his sweatshirt, the scraps falling to the floor and revealing a chest armored in fine scales. His powerful muscles gleamed with a golden sheen as he sighed in relief, the tail swaying lazily.

Then you… what are you now?

Xue Ning’s voice rasped.

Whatever he was, he was certainly no longer human.