Monster (2)

Xue Ning returned home early, first cleaning the sticky mucus from her body. Her wrists bore clear bruises, and her skin was scraped in several places—marks left by that tail. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, kicking aside her soiled clothing. She hadn't the energy to wash them, so she left them piled in the corner. Leaving the bathroom, she lay down on her bed and fell asleep the moment her eyes closed.

Her apartment was scarcely more than a few dozen square meters. A bed was pushed against the wall, with a row of boxes stacked at its foot. Once the space taken by the bathroom was discounted, the room was cramped and oppressive. On the innermost wall, a narrow steel window, no wider or longer than two fingers, let in a sliver of light.

Xue Ning slept uneasily, her brow furrowed. She dreamt of the day she first arrived.

To be precise, the day she crossed over.

At the time, Xue Ning had been searching for work, newly graduated and frantic with interviews. She’d taken an unlicensed cab to save time, only for the driver to insist on picking up another passenger halfway, wasting precious minutes. Anxious, she urged the driver on, but he reacted rudely, his demeanor coarse and hostile. Not wanting to argue, she told him to stop and let her out anywhere. But misfortune struck.

When she opened her eyes again, Xue Ning found herself curled in a corner, surrounded by people. As confusion muddled her mind, the man nearest her suddenly convulsed. To Xue Ning’s horror, his eyeballs burst, blue veins bulged, and he gave a guttural, meaningless roar. He spun and lunged at the nearest person—her.

Xue Ning dodged on instinct, kicking the man toward the wall. Before he could recover, she drove the object in her hand into his back—not a real back now, but flesh scalded and reeking, as though boiled away. The weapon was a shard of the cab’s door frame, its jagged end perfect for stabbing.

She looked to the others in the room. At first, they shrank from her, but soon, seeing her decisive action, they gathered around, voices clamoring with praise and requests for protection. Amid the chaos, Xue Ning pieced together a rough understanding of their predicament.

The mutated man was infected by a Butcher.

“Butcher” was the name given to these monsters, something Xue Ning learned later. Decades ago, countless alien organisms were brought back in a space capsule—hideous, swamp-like, brutal and bloodthirsty. Wherever they went, carnage followed. Humanity resisted for years but was ultimately driven underground.

Thus, fortress after fortress was built, each a final refuge for the survivors.

Xue Ning and the others had been found during a surface mission by Hope Fortress and brought back for screening. Only those who passed inspection, free from mutation, could enter the fortress proper.

Xue Ning’s quick reflexes and precise counterattack earned her priority in housing and work assignments.

Her academic background was unrelated to medicine, yet she was placed in the research base. Only then did she realize the job required not knowledge, but tenacity.

There were many test subjects in the base. Though they volunteered and possessed strong willpower, the outcomes were unpredictable. Many lost their humanity and frequently flew into violent rages, often killing researchers or assistants.

Xue Ning, determined to make the best of her situation, worked diligently. Surviving several months in charge of Subject 01 without injury was considered extremely lucky. But just as she was transferred to a new lab, Subject 01—no longer her responsibility—almost killed her.

...

“Its mutation is the mildest among the current test subjects, but due to changes in the reagent, its rages are the most severe.” The researcher briefed Xue Ning on safety protocols, then continued, “We’re short-staffed. You and another assistant will be responsible for the new subject. Consult me if anything happens.”

Xue Ning donned her protective gear. Though all base personnel were vaccinated, precautions were still necessary.

Her duties were simple: administer reagents at prescribed intervals, monitor the subject’s physical status, and prevent it from harming itself during violent episodes.

“Look, it still retains a human form.” Her co-assistant was a man with pale skin, handsome features, and a robust physique—reassuringly different from the test subjects.

Xue Ning’s gaze fell on the subject in the room.

It looked human, but closer inspection revealed differences: enlarged pores oozing translucent mucus, limbs mismatched to its body, and most notably, its fingers—thick, with translucent nails reminiscent of a beast’s claws.

Most test subjects Xue Ning had seen retained human shapes. The most severe case was Subject 01.

Yet Subject 01 had the lowest tendency for violent outbursts. Xue Ning had never witnessed its rage—not even when she was dragged into the lab yesterday. In that sense, she counted herself lucky; though 01’s environment was gloomy, it was at least comparatively safe.

The current subject, however, was anything but safe. Though its limbs were chained, it crouched like a beast, scarlet eyes fixed on them, crystalline drool dripping from its mouth.

“It’s completely lost its humanity. Without the chains, I wouldn’t dare go in…”

Li Xuebo opened the iron door first, with Xue Ning following. Together, they subdued the subject, administered a sedative, and checked its vital signs.

Li Xuebo took the results to the research office, leaving Xue Ning alone.

Suddenly, the room grew silent. The subject, who had been breathing heavily, now held its breath, cowering in the corner.

Xue Ning looked down—her foot was in mucus.

No, she and Li Xuebo had cleaned the floor. This mucus was fresh.

She stepped aside. The spot where she had stood was now a shallow pool of dark, viscous liquid.

A few days ago, Hope Fortress had sent people out on an expedition, leaving the base half-deserted. The corridors were deathly quiet—the only sound, the faint movement of liquid.

Across the corridor, a dim yellow light glowed, casting shadows on the floor. Sparse, moss-like mucus crept along the walls. Xue Ning watched in silence, recalling the misery of cleaning endless mucus when she was in charge of Subject 01.

Her wrist still tingled with the memory of being licked. Her fingers trembled as the mucus spread, and the subject in the lab began to shake.

A sense of foreboding swept over her. Steadying herself, Xue Ning first cleaned the surrounding mucus, then crossed to the opposite corridor.

With her previous experience, she reached the door of Room 01 without trouble. The mucus was indeed from Subject 01. But why was it doing this? Was something wrong with its body?

Xue Ning stepped forward, squinting to peer into the darkness. The subject hid in the shadows, and only when the corridor light flickered on could she make out his form.

He was different now: the fine scales covering him fluttered open and shut, releasing copious amounts of clear, gelatinous fluid. It pooled on the floor, spreading outward until it reached her feet.

He was, indeed, the most severely mutated subject. Yet, unlike the first mutated man she’d seen—infected by a Butcher, grotesque and vile—the lab subjects, even Subject 01, always retained human form.

Xue Ning had never felt fear facing other subjects, not even during their rages. Only before Subject 01 did a deep-seated terror stir within her. She could hear her blood rushing, urging her to run.

—He was watching her.

Xue Ning picked up the phone hanging beside Room 01’s door. “Subject 01 is secreting large amounts of mucus—the corridor is already covered… Please come check.”

She lowered her gaze, watching the slender tail slowly inch toward her, only a few feet away.

She stepped back. While waiting for the researcher in charge, she narrowed her eyes, watching Subject 01’s state.

She was familiar with him. This hadn’t happened before; only recently had the mucus begun to flood the corridor—not just Room 01’s, but even the corridor of her new lab was often invaded.

This was not a good sign.

The researcher soon arrived, clearly baffled by the situation as well. “Our knowledge of the Butchers is still incomplete. Subject 01 is the most mutated we have—this is a valuable phenomenon for study and documentation. Please help me collect some of his mucus.”

The researcher first gathered samples from the floor, then prepared to collect mucus directly from Subject 01. She explained, “Subject 01 was in a state of rage for months, so we couldn’t get close. Only recently has he calmed down enough for us to send assistants in. You were lucky nothing happened during your time with him.”

Xue Ning was surprised. “A test subject in prolonged rage is usually eliminated—why is he still here?”

The experiments sought to create controllable, conscious subjects to aid in reclaiming the surface. Any subject lost to uncontrollable rage was immediately terminated.

Yet, by the researcher’s account, Subject 01 had been in a protracted and severe rage—so why was he spared?

With Xue Ning’s help, the researcher injected a sedative into Subject 01. While collecting mucus, she said, “This room once held a Butcher, one we captured at great cost. But during an experiment, a researcher was killed. So, to be precise, the subject before us is an unmodified Butcher—he’s never been exposed to any experimental reagents.”

“…To this day, we cannot say for certain whether he is a mutated test subject, or a mutated Butcher.”