The Beast Within (Book One of the Changes Series)
A New Secret to Hold (Part 12.3)

-Killian’s POV-

Dr. Chaplin cleared her throat, “Thank you, Major. Davis, you’re right. The affected don’t turn into wild dogs on the full moon. They can turn at any time of day and night. A.N.N.A., prepare a double dose of LT4 and activate the robotic arms for the procedure.”

“Yes, doctor.”

We watched as two robotic arms came out of the ceiling. The man seemed to be oblivious to what was happening around him.

“There are around 7.5 billion people on this planet. We predicted one in ten thousand carries the lycan trait through a calculated estimation, but only one in one hundred thousand goes through the transition itself. It’s also worth noting that even if a person can transform, it depends heavily on other factors,” Dr. Chaplin educated.

“Sorry to interrupt, doctor, but I’ve done what you’ve asked, and I’m ready for the next round of instructions. Would you like for me to revive the specimen at this time?” A.N.N.A chimed in.

“Yes, then wait for my instructions.”

From underneath the slab’s sides, metal cuffs mechanically came across the man’s arms and legs. The restraints covered both of his forearms and part of his biceps, but it was apparent the metal clamps were too big. If he didn’t have the cable ties in place, he would more than easily slip his arms out of the cuffs. The legs seemed to be somewhat tighter, but not by much.

The left robotic arm went to work, fastening loose-fitting nylon straps around the man’s chest and abdomen.

Dr. Chaplin continued with her presentation,

“The manifestation of the trait varies greatly from each person. A lycan’s transformation could take place between the ages of ten and as late as their mid-thirties. If the person misses their window for the transition, they will become unable to ever go through the process successfully. One person could be able to hold off on the mutation for years after their body is ready, and others may only have weeks.”

Everyone’s attention was drawn towards the window. It wasn’t long before we witnessed the man’s body twitch, showing the first signs of life since the room lit up. His eyes remained closed for the time being.

Anastasiya scanned the room and seemed satisfied by our silence or confusion, probably both.

“The only way to finish the mutation is for the person to be bitten by another fully transitioned werewolf in its true form. There are apparent dangers to this process; lycans aren’t known to stop mid-frenzy. So the person will most likely need to find a way to escape. The other problem is if they pass their genetic shelf life, their instincts will go into overdrive. Resulting in said persons slowly losing their minds. Most of these cases are misdiagnosed as schizophrenia.”

The sound of struggling redirected our attention towards the window. It was apparent the man was yelling at his reflection. From the darting of his eyes, I knew he couldn’t see us.

“A.N.N.A., activate the two-way P.A. system.”

“Two-way P.A. system activated now.”

The deafening, unintelligible gravelly cries were impressive coming from an average male. At times it was a stretch to believe a human was able to project such a sound.

“Mr. Firth, please calm down. You’re safe.”

He stopped yelling, but if his eyes bugged out any farther, they would roll right out of his head.

“Anastasiya, is that you? Oh God, why am I in here again? I’ve done everything you asked for, and you promised to—”

Dr. Chaplin butted in, “I know what I promised. And I’m going to come through, but you need to show some patience.”

Firth started weeping as I turned to evaluate Dr. Chaplin’s response. Guilt flashed over her expression, but only for a moment. Dr. Chaplin was playing it smart, she would be thrown out on her ass otherwise, and at this level of the game, there wasn’t any life to be had after it.

“A.N.N.A., deliver the double dose of LT4 and be ready to adjust the restraints.”

“No, please stop. Don’t do this. I trusted you!”

The right robotic arm slowly came into range as it injected the medication into the struggling man. We watched in amazement and terror as the man’s pleas turned into a deafening roar. The deep bellowing was so loud it felt as if my ears could’ve started to bleed, then out of nowhere, he stopped.

Firth stared silently into the reflective glass. First, he turned his head towards Garvey’s group, then he swiveled to the other side to stare at Washington. I looked around at my new teammates. It didn’t take long to see the apparent discomfort was shared by everyone, including myself.

My teammates turned their gaze on me, taking me off guard. Why were they looking at me like that? I trained my attention back to the window and realized Firth was now staring relentlessly in my direction. An ominous smile slowly crawled across his face before he broke eye contact. That was followed by another bout of inhuman growls before Firth began to vibrate from head to toe.

Was he having a seizure?

My breath hitched as the man started foaming from the mouth, and hair on his head started to shed in huge clumps that fell freely to the floor.

“What the hell did you give him? I think he’s dying, man!” Washington panicked.

“He isn’t dying,” Dr. Chaplin distantly said as her eyes didn’t leave her specimen.

Firth’s body continued to tremor violently as the sound of loudly cracking bones played over the speakers. Soon after that, Firth’s body began to contort, superseding its original size by at least fourfold.

The beast’s transformation seemed to quicken. His hair grew back long and shaggy. He quickly expanded in length and girth, popping the cables that held him as metal cuffs now strained under the snug fit. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as Firth’s hands and nails grew into long, boney extremities. Large nodules bubbled up over each of his knuckles and joints. Its monstrous fingers ended in razor-sharp blackened claws as his skin turned from a pasty white to a leathery brown.

The continuous sounds of cracks and crunches echoed into the space. With each new sound, the large viewing room seemed to shrink.

I swallowed hard, but I felt my throat tighten in response. I’d been in many tight spots, figuratively and literally. Still, the feeling of claustrophobia never felt as strong as it did right now. As if I was paralyzed, my eyes stayed fixed on the monster in front of me.

His legs contorted into the legs of an enormous canine with terrifyingly sharpened paws to match. I was scared to bring my gaze upward, but I did it anyway.

My eyes were trained on his grizzly face as the speakers shared the sounds of his open-mouthed snarl coming from his joker-like grin. His huge sharp teeth crowded his stretched mouth caused a shiver to run through me.

As if on cue, Dr. Chaplin started in, “The reason we’re seeing Mr. Firth’s mouth so widely extended is that werewolves have forty-two teeth.”

As soon as she finished, Firth’s face looked as if it had started to melt as his skull began to stretch.

“What the fuck?!” Washington yelled.

I half expected people to run out, but it seemed everyone was as stuck as I was.

“A.N.N.A., activate the neck restraint,” Hardaway ordered.

“I’m sorry, Major, I’m not authorized to take commands from anyone other than the doctor performing the lab demonstration.”

I tore my eyes away from the werewolf long enough to notice Hardaway had directed her firm gaze toward Dr. Chaplin.

“Parameters can always be changed,” Hardaway threatened.

The doctor quickly caught the hint, “A.N.N.A., do as Major Hardaway instructed.”

“Yes, Dr. Chaplin.”

People like the major didn’t take kindly to anyone or anything pulling rank they hadn’t earned. Hardaway wouldn’t have made it to where she was if she had. The military had grown leaps and bounds, but it was still considered a man’s game.

A metal collar snapped shut across Firth’s neck as he continued his transformation. His nose and lips melded into an elongated muzzle. Even his already massive teeth seemed to become more prominent than before.

Out of nowhere, he had calmed dramatically, closing his eyes. It looked like the last parts of the change were finishing. The parts of earth-toned skin that weren’t covered with thick bushy hair appeared to harden on the colossal creature. Suddenly his eyes shot open, showing off his newly formed irises.

There’s no way this thing could be the tiny man that was tied to the table just minutes ago. It started back struggling violently against its bonds.

“Can that thing get free from the table? Because from where I’m sitting, the whole setup looks flimsy,” Washington stated.

“The restraints should hold, and Mr. Firth is not a thing. Besides, even if they don’t, the glass is reinforced, so we should be able to exit the room and secure the area before anything concerning could happen,” Dr. Chaplin assured.

“Dr. Chaplin, no offense, but you had too many ‘shoulds’ in that statement for my liking,” Washington countered.

Anastasiya didn’t bother retorting this time as she kept her attention on her specimen.

The werewolf started to buck again. His muzzle was slightly unhinged as drool dripped out of its mouth.

“Can these werewolves smell fear?” I asked.

A small smile of approval marked her expression, “What an excellent question.” Her eyes seemed to come to life as she talked. “We aren’t absolutely sure, but we do know they have excellent hearing. From other tests, I’ve concluded they’re able to hear a human heartbeat from incredible distances.”

“So this thing can hear our heartbeats through the partition?” Davis asked matter of factually.

“Again, they’re called werewolves, and yes, Mr. Firth can. With that being said, you all have to be aware of your excitement levels. Your heart fluttering is the same as putting blood in the water with a great white around.

The creature let out an earsplitting growl without any warning, never giving up on his struggle against the cuffs. My jaw dropped, my mind still battling with what my eyes were witnessing. I wanted to turn away and forget everything I’d seen, but that wasn’t an option. The image was now seared into my brain and awaiting my nightmares.

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