Page 50 of Monster. Me.

Reed stuffs the used bandages into a biohazard bag and tosses it into a plastic container.

"You won't be alone here much longer," he says casually. "Dr. Lomax is planning to bring in more freaks like you. The board already approved startup funding and expanded research programs. Traits like accelerated healing are going to be studied too. Maybe you'll get picked for round two."

He packs the rest of his medical supplies into his bag and throws me another glance.

"Some guy's supposed to arrive tomorrow. His parents apparently kept him locked in some underground hole for years. Nobody can communicate with him. He doesn't talk. Dr. Lomax knew the police chief from the district where they found him and arranged to have him transferred here."

He looks far too pleased with himself, like he's enjoying both the juicy gossip and the chance to remind me that people like me only ever end up as guinea pigs.

I frown.

"If that guy was abused by his parents, shouldn't some charity or support organization be helping him? Getting him psychological care or something?"

Reed laughs, immediately proving I'd interpreted his earlier comments correctly.

"Maybe under normal circumstances. But he's a mutant, just like you. He's not human, and nobody treats him like one." His face stretches into such a nasty grin that I want to punch him. "The cops didn't know what to do with him. They were even considering calling the military. Then somebody remembered their buddy, Dr. Lomax. And the good doctor was more than happy to take him in."

I think about some poor bastard who basically escaped one nightmare only to fall straight into another. People like me, like him, often end up in laboratories, military compounds, undergoing endless experiments.

Sometimes I even wonder whether they're ever going to let me leave this place.

I just sit there watching Reed without moving a muscle. Then I say one of my favorite things.

"You know, I could cut you clean in half with a single move," I say calmly, like I always do when I throw out threats. Sometimes I just say things like that as a way to vent, nothing more.

And the truth is I could. I can see the exact space between his vertebrae where I’d strike if I shifted just one hand into my other form. One motion would be enough. A clean cut, and Reed wouldn’t just be an asshole anymore; he’d be a dead asshole.

I keep staring at him without budging. My species is known for its patience, as it can stay in one place for a very long time, waiting for its prey.

After transforming into my second form, I could have easily devoured him whole.

His head would have fit in my jaws, and in my mind I can almost hear the sound his skull would make if I started to crunch through it.

There’s something I’ve never told anyone. Not long after leaving the alpha camp, I paid a certain captain to smuggle me to Europe in his cargo hold. He was sailing to Helsinki, and from there, traveling at night, I made my way to a village where my family once lived. I remembered the man who killed my parents perfectly. One day I caught him walking through a small forest grove near his house. I shifted into my other form and devoured him. Yes, I’m the kind of beast that eats people, not just one that wants to fuck them.

But of course, that’s not all there is to my particular nature. I’m a highly specialized predator, and all my senses are tuned to perfection, built to know exactly how to kill my prey.

Unfazed by my cold stare, Reed snorts, full of contempt.

"You’re all talk, no action. You’re too scared. You know you’d end up locked in some concrete bunker underground, and you don’t want that."

He goes back to his damn medical bag like I’m not worth the fear factor, while I hold my predatory instincts back with everything I’ve got. My whole life has been a constant negotiation with my second nature. What it wants is simple: kill, consume, repeat. And fuck. But there’s another half of me, the human half, and right now it has to work overtime just to keep the beast in check.

"Be grateful you're useful," Reed adds. "Because the moment you stop having value for us, your future's gonna look pretty damn bleak."

My anger starts rising again.

But the beast form is not my only weapon.

I rarely tap into my more subtle gift. Really rarely. Mostly because it requires significant focus, but also I don’t want anybody to notice any pattern around me. If I used it more often, they would realize it’s correlated with me and my bad mood.

But today… this sadistic jerk has earned it.

So I focus.

My head is practically throbbing with the strain, as though my entire body has drawn tight like a bowstring. This ability takes an enormous amount of effort.

The world around me fades slightly, sounds becoming distant, as if someone wrapped everything in layers of cotton. The perk is that I don’t need to shift into my monstrous form to ruin someone’s day.