Page 51 of Monster. Me.

I look at Reed's body, and it becomes translucent to me, like a three-dimensional anatomical model layered over reality. I can see the outlines of organs, networks of blood vessels, chemical signals moving through tissues. Hundreds of processes happening simultaneously inside a perfectly functioning biological machine. A predator at my core instinctively focuses on the ones that can work in my favor the fastest.

I know quite a bit about glands, hormones, and the human body. Some of it comes naturally, pure instinct woven into my nature, but I've also spent years learning exactly what effects I can create. Working as a carpenter wasn't my only passion.

My attention drifts toward his abdomen.

Intestines. Glands. Secretory cells.

I brush against them with my gift.

It's like giving a moving pendulum a gentle push. I stimulate the enterochromaffin cells scattered throughout the walls of his intestines. Serotonin production immediately begins to climb, just a little.

And serotonin speeds up intestinal activity… VIP increases fluid secretion. Together they should make for a very interesting afternoon for Reed.

A long bathroom trip!

He finishes packing his things, still talking, but I've stopped listening. I'm watching his body respond.

Ten seconds pass. Then fifteen. A minute.

Suddenly he frowns and pauses in the middle of a movement.

One hand immediately goes to his stomach.

Another wave of cramps hits, and his expression changes instantly. His usual confidence vanishes, replaced by pure confusion.

He sets the container down on the floor. His jaw clenches, his hand presses harder against his abdomen.

"Fuck… that damn cafeteria. One of these days they're gonna poison somebody."

He turns toward the door so quickly he nearly trips over his own bag.

"I gotta… I'll be right back."

No, you won't, I think. The doors slide open, and Reed practically rushes out into the hallway.

For a moment I watch him running in silence. Then a slow smile spreads across my face. It's pure satisfaction.

Maybe I'm a prisoner here.

Maybe every day they remind me that I'm nothing more than research material to them. But sometimes the universe lets a mutant enjoy the little victories.

When Reed leaves, I head for the shower. I look at my hip. There’s only a faint mark left… I sigh quietly. Sure, my regeneration is stronger than most, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain like everyone else.

I let the warm water run over my head for a long time, thinking about… cherry orchards.

My dad had one. A pale memory rises from deep in my mind: a warm hand holding mine, the morning mist fading as a pink-gold ray of sunlight cuts through rows of blooming cherry trees.

"It smells amazing, Dad. The best!"

"Yeah, son. And later… the flowers turn into delicious fruit. A cold-resistant variety!"

I smile, lifting my eyes to his face. The sky above him is wide and bright, and my world is still untouched.

Beautiful. Full of love.

He smiles back, and I feel his tenderness, his eyes watching me with warmth…

…until it starts to dissolve into darkness…