Monster (7)

Xue Ning woke with a weary look in her eyes, clearly unrested. A large patch of the wall in the corner was damp from water, causing her heart to race and her face to flush. As full consciousness returned, she narrowed her eyes and realized she was at home, not in the laboratory.

The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth—it must have rained. The Hope Fortress was built below ground, and though the artificial sky shielded them from the surface-dwellers’ assaults, some areas had still suffered damage. When rainfall was heavy, the inside of the fortress was inevitably affected.

Stepping outside her home, Xue Ning was met by clammy, oppressive air. She glanced up at the sky, its blue and white clouds an illusion crafted by advanced technology. The farther one strayed from the central zone, the more distorted the sky appeared above. Xue Ning frowned with irritation.

The thought of returning to the laboratory filled her with reluctance. It wasn’t the work itself she resisted, but the suffocating environment of the lab—the uncanny sensation of being watched from all directions, as if something sought to pierce right through her, trapping her in that cramped space.

Room 01 lay within her area of responsibility, yet she could not bear to face its test subject again. Whether it was the fear he evoked within her or the researchers’ suspicious distrust, both disturbed her deeply.

When Xue Ning reached the laboratory, her heart sank at the sight before Room 34, her assigned chamber.

Brilliant overhead lights revealed the scene within. Iron chains were firmly embedded in the walls, and the test subject, who had been sedated and barely calmed the previous day, now lay in a pool of blood and torn flesh near the iron bars, his limbs ripped apart and scattered.

He had once borne a human-like face, but now no trace of it remained.

A sharp, short scream escaped Xue Ning. Once she regained her composure, sweat drenched her back. She scanned the area, then contacted the lead researcher.

The researcher’s expression darkened. “What happened here?”

The scene in Room 34 was grisly, enough to unsettle anyone’s stomach. Silence fell as dread crept in, the terror of the unknown chilling every spine.

Moss grew quietly in the corners, water trickling past in small currents.

The iron bars of Room 34 were intact. If there had been a forced breach, the laboratory’s alarms would have sounded. According to the night staff’s report, nothing unusual had happened—the alarms had remained silent.

If there was no external breach, how could this have happened in Room 34? Surely the test subject hadn’t torn himself apart during a fit of rage.

With no clues, the researcher’s face grew grim. “I’ll report the situation in Room 34 to the professor. Everyone, stay alert and be careful.” She stared at the blood-soaked room, a sense of foreboding looming over her.

If progress continued to stall, would Hope Fortress endure?

These worries, however, she kept to herself, careful not to unsettle the others. As she turned, she saw Xue Ning staring absently at the marks on the floor and asked if she’d noticed anything unusual.

With the professor absent and other researchers temporarily reassigned for urgent projects, only a handful managed the lab. The researcher was familiar with Xue Ning, having spent much time with her. Though the young woman appeared gentle and kind, she was in truth steady and courageous.

Making a mental note, the researcher decided to recommend Xue Ning to the professor—her composure and nerve made her well-suited to stay.

As the researcher was silently counting Xue Ning’s strengths, Xue Ning spoke, her voice trembling, “Is it possible... that the test subject from Room 01 did this?”

The researcher was taken aback, then frowned. “Why would you think that?”

Xue Ning’s gaze remained fixed on the marks.

Clear liquid wound along the corridor, disappearing into the darkness, with faint traces of red visible under the lights.

She pointed to the trail. “The test subject in Room 01 can secrete this fluid, and the stains lead toward the opposite corridor—that’s where Room 01 is.”

The researcher replied decisively, “Impossible.”

“Even the lab’s corners have traces of this liquid. You can’t suspect Room 01 just because of this. Besides, Room 34’s structure wasn’t damaged. Even if the test subject from Room 01 or something else broke in, how did it enter, and why didn’t the alarms trigger?”

“You need rest.” She noticed the darkness under Xue Ning’s eyes and her exhaustion.

Xue Ning pressed her lips together. The thick smell of blood was overwhelming, and physiological discomfort only compounded her fear. Her back was against the wall, sticky with viscous liquid, sweat beading on her forehead. She looked toward the dim corridor, haunted by the feeling that, for days now, the unseen presence that filled her with dread was right beside her, watching her every move.

After one last look at the carnage in Room 34, Xue Ning followed the researcher, her expression grave. “I know you don’t believe me, but if I’m right... it could spell disaster for the lab, an irreparable catastrophe.”

The researcher returned to her office and pulled up the surveillance footage. “I want to believe you, but if the test subject from Room 01 could come and go freely, what motive would he have to attack Room 34?”

Behind her black-rimmed glasses, her eyes were calm yet cold. “Let me ask you—he’s lost all consciousness. If he could get out, what’s the most likely thing he’d do?”

“He’d leave the lab. Or... begin a massacre.”

“If Room 01 can’t hold him, do you think we’d be sitting here discussing this safely?”

Rationally, Xue Ning knew the researcher was right. If the test subject from Room 01 had attacked Room 34, what was the motive? There was none.

He’d supposedly killed the test subject in Room 34, yet did nothing else—he simply returned to Room 01. Xue Ning had checked the door herself; the test subject was still curled silently in the corner, chained by the wrist, showing no sign of having left.

If he was responsible, none of it made sense.

She said nothing, instead moving closer to watch the surveillance footage with the researcher.

A moment later, they exchanged a look, panic barely concealed in their eyes, and spoke in unison: “How is that possible!”

There were cameras in the corridors. The night the power went out, surveillance was down and Xue Ning’s account couldn’t be verified. But last night, everything had been normal, the cameras running—yet the screens were blank where there should have been footage.

“This shouldn’t be,” the researcher muttered.

Xue Ning was equally at a loss. The longer the mystery went unsolved, the greater the danger loomed—today it was a test subject, but who would be next?

Reviewing several recordings, the researcher noted that not all areas had problems, and that the outages were random, giving them no clues to follow.

Xue Ning stayed behind, and the researcher asked, “You still think it was the test subject from Room 01?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“...Just a feeling.”

She knew how unconvincing that sounded, and her expression was a little embarrassed.

“Sometimes intuition is a powerful thing, but...” The researcher pulled up a surveillance clip. “This isn’t a secret—there’s just no need to tell you all the details. But since you keep suspecting Room 01, I’ll show you this footage.”

“Room 01 once held a Butcher. Its appearance need not be described—it was grotesque.”

Click.

The surveillance video played.

The view was dim. As time passed, footsteps echoed, and the corridor lights snapped on. The Butcher, bunched up in the shadows, became visible—its muddy, oily skin glistened black, and its hoarse voice grated like a blade scraping fragile eardrums. Viscous drool dripped from its gaping maw.

Even through the screen, the stench seemed palpable.

“A researcher named Chen was on duty then. He was the one who captured this Butcher. He was highly skilled—everyone in the lab wanted to work with his team. Though aloof, he always handled crises calmly. He was gentle and kind.”

The researcher’s tone was full of admiration and deep regret as she spoke of Chen.

Steady footsteps sounded. On the video, a pair of long legs appeared, followed by a tall, slender figure. Amid the Butcher’s roars, Researcher Chen approached, his frame lean, his bearing unhurried.

Xue Ning unconsciously held her breath, her gaze fixed on the man in the video. As he turned, his profile flashed—a strikingly handsome man, his features clear even through the grainy surveillance.

His appearance was not so different from the test subject in Room 01, but his presence was worlds apart. The man in the video exuded calm; even in the face of the Butcher, he remained composed, gently reassuring his nervous colleagues.

“That day was unremarkable—no one expected what would happen next. One of Chen’s colleagues, who had followed him from the surface, was manipulated by the Butcher, his mind pushed to the brink. As Chen finished his check and turned to leave, that colleague released the Butcher’s restraints.”

On the footage, Chen walked ahead, his team of researchers and assistants trailing behind.

The moment he left the lab, the Butcher seized the nearest researcher, jaws gaping, and the air filled with agonized screams and cries for help—then, abruptly, silence. The researcher was dead.

“Chen didn’t flee. He returned to the lab, covering the others’ escape.”

The video flickered. Dark red blood mingled with viscous fluid on the floor. Screams and roars blended, as if the past were replaying in real-time.

The day Researcher Chen’s life ended.

His team included colleagues of many years, assistants recruited after the fortress’s founding, and even children burdened with responsibilities before adulthood. Chen’s team received more research grants than others, and he always brought as many as possible to Room 01 for observation.

When their screams rang out, he didn’t hesitate. He rushed into the lab, armed only with a scalpel meant to cut the Butcher’s hide. He stabbed the creature’s arm, pushed aside the youngest assistant, and shouted for them to sound the alarm.

He’d joined surface raids against Butchers before, but those operations required teams of at least a dozen. Alone, he was as powerless as an ant before a mountain. Against a Butcher, human strength was so fragile.

The assistant who escaped was ashen, sobbing for him to run. He shuddered, then lowered his head. His chest was torn open, pain flooding his senses, but he bit down hard and persevered.

He was meticulous about cleanliness, but now his shirt was drenched in muddy blood, wrinkled and filthy. He tried to smooth the creases, but his arm trembled uncontrollably.

His glasses fell to the ground, the lenses shattering, revealing gentle eyes. He wiped the blood from his lips, and under the assistant’s horrified gaze, dragged himself toward the door, closing the iron gate behind him.

With a decisive click, the laboratory’s bars separated him from the others—a deep chasm severing his last hope of escape. Blood sprayed from his chest, mingling with the blackish sludge, thick and foul like a swamp.

When security finally arrived, they found Room 01 awash in blood, severed limbs caked in mud everywhere.

The progress bar advanced; Xue Ning, like the others on-screen, stared in shock, sweat beading on her brow. She leaned forward, as if she might fall into the screen.

“He’s...”

The researcher explained, “Had the Butcher escaped Room 01, not only the lab but the entire fortress would have faced annihilation. Researcher Chen realized this and, in his dying moments, unleashed a formidable strength. He killed the Butcher, dying with it.”

A deathly silence reigned, within the room and on the screen—only the sound of ragged breathing remained.

Researcher Chen had been the pride of X Research Base. His death was an immeasurable loss, both to the base and to humanity’s survivors.

Xue Ning knew how the story ended, yet she held her breath at the sudden twist on screen. There, the bloodied, unrecognizable man slowly sat up, his legs emerging from his torn trousers. He was lean, but beneath his shredded protective suit, his muscles were powerful and his shoulders broad. His chest was ripped open, ribs exposed, blood dripping steadily. His breathing grew raspy, wracking coughs threatening to expel his very organs.

Under the hopeful, astonished eyes of the onlookers, the man’s taut muscles began to swell, his frame expanding to a Herculean size, exuding a suffocating aura.

The carnage around him left him unmoved; his back remained calm, his movements unhurried. He bent down, lifted the Butcher’s corpse, and, with the pale skin of one long accustomed to laboratory work, made a stark contrast against the blackish debris.

He extended his tongue, licking his palm like a beast.

Corded muscles twisted with bulging veins, snaking up his neck and across his face. When he finally looked toward the bars, the gentle eyes once clear as the moon were now shot through with blood, his gaze crimson and feral.

All who witnessed it knew: Researcher Chen was dead.

The researcher showed Xue Ning further footage. After his transformation, Chen remained in the lab. The iron bars could never hold him, yet he always faced the corner, so quiet it was as if he didn’t exist.

But as long as he remained, danger hovered close.

“At first, the professor believed Researcher Chen retained his human consciousness. We all did, out of hope and respect. But, alas...

“He fell into a frenzy, attacking any researcher who approached. Eventually, the professor decided to treat him not as a colleague, but as a test subject. We sent in wave after wave of berserk test subjects to exhaust him, and when he was spent, locked him in Room 01.”

“He’s lost all awareness but retains the power to slaughter any test subject. If he was responsible for Room 34, I’d say none of the test subjects in the base would survive—and neither would you, me, or any other researcher.”

Xue Ning emerged from the video dazed, unable to process it all. The researcher’s logic was sound. She nodded slightly, and the woman, seeing her distracted, suggested she rest in the office before returning to work.

In the past, researchers suffering mental breakdowns had brought unforeseen disaster to the lab.

Chen’s death, the escape of test subjects—all were linked to the mental collapse of researchers or assistants.

Xue Ning declined the offer and left the office. Returning to the door of Room 34, she found the lab had been cleaned, only a faint metallic tang lingering in the air. Her gaze swept the spotless floor, eventually drifting to the dim corridor opposite.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

The memory of the blackout returned. Everyone said she’d had a nightmare, and she’d begun to doubt herself. But the chilling sensation, the oppressive male gaze, and the moment the backup generator kicked in, the man turning the corner toward her—it had all felt too real.

In a flash, Xue Ning’s eyes snapped open.

—The test subject in Room 01 had once been an outstanding researcher.

He was the pride of X Research Base, entrusted with privileges others did not possess. The equipment that confined Butchers in Room 01 had been developed with his help. He certainly knew how to unlock the mechanisms, how to trigger or avoid alarms, the limits of surveillance coverage, and could easily copy or erase footage...

Xue Ning was only an ordinary assistant, ignorant of many protocols, but Chen was different. As a lead researcher, if he wished to move freely in the lab, nothing could stop him.

A cold sweat broke across Xue Ning’s back.

What exactly did he intend to do?