This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. I am not about to become this thing’s breeder, or whatever the hell he had planned for me. I have to get out.
My eyes darted frantically around the glass cell, my body pressed flush against his. The tendrils coiling around me tightened, constricting my chest, making it harder to breathe. The scent of burning coals radiated from his skin, sharp and acrid, assaulting my senses. It was suffocating, an invasion of everything I was.
But I wasn’t going to give up. I’d gotten myself into this, and I’d get myself out.
In a desperate move, I opened my mouth wide and sank my teeth into his shoulder. Hard. The taste of him—metallic, bitter—hit my tongue, and his cry of pain filled the cell. The tendrils slackened, releasing me in a moment of shocked agony. I didn’t hesitate. I bolted for the heavy entrance door, swiping my card as his growls echoed behind me. The door creaked open just as his cries morphed into something primal, something inhuman.
I threw myself through the door, slamming it shut and locking it behind me with trembling fingers.
Am I safe?
I stood there, frozen in the pre-check chamber as the scanner flickered on, confirming my humanity. A second later, the lab entrance clicked open.
Bang! Bam!
I jumped, instinctively backing away from the cell door. He was hammering against it, trying to break through. His growls were unlike anything I’d ever heard—feral, guttural, something born of pure rage. The bone-chilling roar that followed made my head spin. How could they let people study something like this? How could they let me in there with him? I could have been killed. I almost was killed.
But… despite the fear, despite the terror still coursing through me, I couldn’t shake the fascination. The mere existence of such a creature defied logic. He was sentient, intelligent—and fully capable of killing.
The banging against the door continued even as I hurried back into the lab, heart still racing. The cold, sterile room felt like a haven now, a sanctuary from the nightmare I’d just escaped. I grabbed my clipboard with shaking hands, scanning it for his schedule. That was his last dose for the day. Thank God. Any more interactions with him, and I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out alive next time.
I was panting. The shallow, ragged breaths didn’t register until I made it to the lab restroom. As I approached the sink, I froze. My mouth—my lips and teeth—were stained black. A smear of darkness against my pale skin. The metallic taste that clung to my tongue hit me then, sharp and bitter. Blood. But not my own. His blood. Pray’s.
Panic gripped me, but my body moved on instinct. I fumbled with the faucet, splashing cold water onto my face, my neck, scrubbing my hands raw to rid myself of the black stains. My skin prickled beneath the harsh water, but I couldn’t stop. The black rinsed away easily enough, swirling down the drain, but the feeling of it—of him—clung to me. My hands trembled as I turned off the water, droplets still slipping off my fingers and onto the floor.
Silence. The only sound was the soft drip of water, the rush of blood in my ears. Pray had calmed…at least for now. But I hadn’t. I couldn’t. The adrenaline still coursed through me, leaving my limbs heavy, my chest tight. I looked up, catching my reflection in the mirror. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. My blond hair was a wild mess, the mascara smudged around my blue eyes. At some point, I’d been crying, tears mingling with black mascara, and I hadn’t even realized it.
“Fuck…” The word slipped out on a breath. “Fuck…fuck!” The last one came out louder, more desperate, echoing off the sterile walls of the restroom. This is where I am now. In a government lab, babysitting a monster. How could it get worse than this? I let out a hollow, humorless laugh. Who was I kidding? It could get worse. Much worse.
I leaned back against the wall, letting myself sink slowly to the cold, tiled floor. My body was still shaking, the adrenaline refusing to fade. My mind raced, replaying the scene with Pray over and over. His tendrils, his grip, the look in his eyes. Was this…normal? For him? My gaze drifted up to the ceiling, but there were no answers up there. Was it even worth it to stay here now? I rubbed my face, my fingers digging into my temples as I tried to ease the pressure building in my skull.
This—he—was the discovery of the century. The kind of breakthrough that scientists dreamed of. Something hidden deep within the FBI’s grasp, something no one else in the world had access to. And I was here. I was here to study it. To study him. To find out where he came from, what he was…or what he could be.
But was it worth dying for?
My thoughts spiraled into that question, my thoughts wandered into still numbness. Did I want to die just to be part of something bigger than myself? I didn’t know how to answer that. How could I? How could anyone? And yet, despite everything—despite the danger, despite the terror, despite the fact that I had barely escaped with my life—I was still fascinated by Pray. Still drawn to him. My curiosity wouldn’t let me leave. If he could be tamed, if he could be controlled…just imagine what we could learn from him. What I could learn.
But this? This wasn’t what I signed up for. This wasn’t what I had been told. I thought I’d be observing an anomaly, a strange creature kept behind glass. I wasn’t prepared to deal with a sentient being, a predator who had decided I was his next target. My stomach twisted at the thought.
I pressed my palms to the cold floor, the chill seeping into my skin as I tried to ground myself. The question still hung in the back of my mind, unanswered. Was it worth it?
I wasn’t sure. But I knew one thing—I wasn’t ready to give up.
Not yet…
I didn’t wait to give Graves a piece of my mind. The moment I returned the next day, I stormed toward his office, my fists clenched. As soon as I reached his door, I pounded on it with both hands.
“Doctor Graves!”
My voice rang out down the sterile hall, drawing the attention of nearby military guards. They tensed, watching me closely, but I didn’t care. Let them watch. Let them hear. I banged harder.
“Doctor Graves!”
The door flew open, and there he was, his expression dark with irritation. “Have you lost your—”
“Now you listen to me!” I growled, cutting him off. My eyes locked on his wrinkled, indifferent face, my anger boiling over. “You left me alone! With a monster! The cameras were on, and I was in danger! No one came to help me! What the fuck was that? What the hell is he?! And this!” My voice cracked as I waved my arms, trying to keep my composure. “I almost died, or whatever the hell he had planned for me!”
Graves folded his arms, his gaze narrowing with that familiar, unflinching coldness. “You signed the papers, Serenity. You knew what we kept here.”
“I knew about vaguely described animals,” I shot back, my voice shaking with fury, “of possible different origins! Not a goddamn otherworldly being with tentacles!” My voice was rising, practically echoing off the walls.
“Calm down before I have you arrested, Doctor Serenity.” His voice was flat, icy, cutting through the air. “This is in your contract,” he added with maddening calm, stepping back into his office. I followed him inside, my glare burning into his back.
“You think I care about a damn contract right now?” I spat.
Graves didn’t bother turning around, already pulling a file from his desk. He flipped through it slowly, deliberately, as though I wasn’t standing right there, trembling with rage. “As it clearly states,” he said, tapping one of the pages, “we are not responsible for what happens in Subject 003’s cell. It’s beyond our control.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “What?”
“No,” he repeated, turning the packet toward me and pointing to the fine print. “See for yourself.”
I leaned in, barely processing the words. The Erebus Containment Facility of New Jackson, Mississippi (hereinafter referred to as ‘the Facility’) shall not be held liable for any illness, disease, injury, or other health-related complications, including but not limited to death, that may arise as a result of direct or indirect exposure to Subject 003. By signing this agreement, the undersigned acknowledges and accepts all inherent risks associated with working in close proximity to Subject 003 and agrees to release the Facility from any legal claims or responsibilities pertaining to such risks.
I wanted to yank my hair out. Scream. Cry. “But it doesn’t—” I stopped, forcing myself to take a breath.
“You are a xenobiologist, Miss Collins,” he said, his voice gruff. “Get a hold of yourself.”
“How am I supposed to stay calm when it told me it wanted to mate with me?!” I snapped, crossing my arms.
Graves blinked, his entire demeanor shifting. His voice trailed off, his brow furrowing as he stared at me. “Now… what did you say?”
“You heard me,” I said, arms folded tighter across my chest. “The damn thing wanted me.”
Graves shook his head slowly, disbelief settling in his expression. “Pray…” He paused, his voice low. “Pray has been at this facility longer than either of us have been alive. He’s never shown any sexual interest. Therefore…” His voice wavered slightly. “You must have misheard him.”
Before I could respond, a lab scientist burst into the room, panting, her face pale. “Dr. Graves!” she gasped. “It’s Pray—he keeps shouting about someone named Serenity! He’s destroying his room, trying to break the walls! The guards are there, but we can’t get close enough to calm him down!”
Her voice trembled with panic, and for a moment, the weight of what she was saying settled between us like a stone.
Graves shot me a sharp look, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that made my stomach twist. “Stay here. We aren’t done yet,” he said before quickly following the scientist out.
But I wasn’t about to just sit there and wait. Not when this was happening. I followed them.
Chaos had already erupted in the facility. Guards rushed past us, their boots thundering against the floor. Distant shouts echoed through the hallways, and the sharp staccato of gunfire sent a chill down my spine. My heart pounded in my chest. This place didn’t know what calm was, it seemed—only the constant threat of disaster.
As I hurried after Graves and the scientist, the air felt thick with tension, like the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something worse. Something that couldn’t be contained.
As I reached the lab, a few scientists barreled into me, nearly knocking me over as they sprinted past, screaming.
“Shit…” I muttered, pushing myself upright. My gaze locked onto the symbols etched on the surface of Pray's glass prison—they were glowing, pulsing as if reacting to his transformed state. I stared, horrified. What was that thing? Was that... him? Could that monstrous, swirling mass of tendrils be Pray? I could barely process what I was seeing: a gaping maw lined with hundreds of teeth, and countless eyes flickering in every direction.
Nearby, Graves shouted orders to the guards, but I was transfixed, unable to look away from what Pray had become. Then… his eyes shifted, locking onto me. Suddenly, the writhing tendrils slowed, a strange calmness settling over the chaos as he looked at me. Graves and the others didn’t notice—they were too busy reloading their tranquilizer guns, their discarded rounds already scattered across the floor of his cell. Pray must have been fighting them all.
Finally, Graves spotted me and glared, clearly furious that I hadn’t followed his orders. “Stay back,” he barked, his voice tense.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I took a step forward, staring through the glass wall—his prison. Fear gripped me, as it would anyone, but there was something about the way Pray hesitated at the sight of me. My gaze fixed on the mass of his tendrils, frozen in place. The glow from the symbols etched on the glass cast a reflection across his inky black form—the only thing holding him inside that glass prison. And yet… something about me seemed to affect him. Graves had said he didn’t have any sexual desires, but what I felt yesterday was real. The way his body pressed against mine—there was a need in it. An instinct, maybe. Like an animal seeking a mate. That had to be it; he saw me as a potential mate.
I was barely aware of the other scientists fleeing the room, the guards shouting into their radios. I only saw Pray.
As I moved closer, I could see his tendrils shifting, their restless movement slowing further. But then his attention snapped away, and he let out a chilling growl. The guards inside the glass prison had raised their rifles, aiming directly at him.
“No…” I whispered. They were provoking him. He was calming down—he was calming down. “Wait, don’t—” My hand stretched out instinctively, a silent plea for them to stop. But my voice was drowned out by the sudden barrage of gunfire, unleashed on Graves’s orders.
Pray’s red eyes flickered, and his tendrils flared outward in a violent, spear-like array, lashing in every direction. The glass prison trembled under the force of his rage, a low, guttural growl building in his chest. One tendril shot forward, wrapping around a guard with bone-crushing speed. A sickening crunch echoed through the room as he was dragged into the mass, devoured.
Another guard was soon yanked off his feet, rifle clattering on the metallic floor. Blood painting across the glass where I stood, my jaw dropping. This was insanity, so much death…that could have been avoided.
Then came the screams—the desperate cries of guards as the tranquilizing bullets made contact with his writhing form. I flinched at each sickening thud, the darts embedding themselves in his inky flesh. A guttural howl erupted from Pray, reverberating through the glass like a tortured animal's wail, sharp and raw.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the horrific scene unfolding before me. But the sounds seeped in, relentless—the crack of bone, the scrape of tendrils dragging across the floor, the muffled pleas of those who were too close, caught in his wrath. The air grew thick with the scent of fear and something darker, primal and metallic.
A pause. Then a shudder ran through the room as his monstrous movements slowed, the frenzied thrashing fading. Tentatively, I opened my eyes, bracing for the worst.
A blood-soaked canvas spread across the glass, the once-glowing symbols now dark. The remaining guards were panting, their eyes wide with disbelief that they were still alive. Inside the glass, Pray’s monstrous form loomed, his growls finally silenced, though his tendrils still writhed, moving with a sluggish, restless energy. It seemed the sedatives couldn’t fully subdue him. He truly was a remarkable—and terrifying—being.
The silence shattered as Graves barked orders to the remaining personnel, those who hadn’t fled or been killed. He was desperate to regain control, as always. The chaos, the blood, the violence—it was finally over. I felt numb to it all, except for the strange pity growing within me for Pray. Perhaps none of this had been necessary. Perhaps no one needed to die. Maybe he didn’t have to be hurt like this.
Maybe it was just naive optimism, but deep down, I didn’t think he even understood that hurting others was wrong.
Before long, a cleaning crew flooded the containment unit, and I knew I couldn’t linger. I stepped away from the glass wall, a strange determination settling over me. Pray had attacked out of fear—I was certain of it. Someone must have provoked him. He was calm when he saw me, wasn’t he?
I couldn’t help but think back to what had happened between us. He didn’t want to hurt me—not really. Maybe… maybe I had overreacted, thinking he would kill me. But that didn’t excuse the violation I felt, the sense of being trapped and cornered. My thoughts drifted back to the possibility that he simply didn’t understand human social interactions. That had to be it. No one had ever taught him how to act like a human—what was right or wrong, what was acceptable or not. He was scared, and he hesitated when he saw me today. That had to mean something.
Even after I bit him, even after our conflict, there was still a part of him that seemed to want me around. His actions might have been driven by instinct, by a primal desire to mate. If he saw me as a potential mate, it explained so much. That had to be the reason behind his behavior.
Pushing those thoughts aside for now, I returned to my work, recording data at the computers. Graves was preoccupied with other matters, shouting orders at the remaining staff, likely forgetting all about my earlier outburst. Considering everything that had just happened, I couldn’t blame him—he had bigger problems to deal with.
I glanced toward the glass prison, watching as the cleaning crew wiped down the blood-streaked walls and replaced the damaged furniture. It was fascinating, really—how prepared they were. They had fresh furniture on standby, ready to swap out as if this sort of chaos was routine. How often does this happen? I wondered. Do the other subjects cause this much damage too?
Eventually, Graves left the lab, muttering something about filing reports. The glass cell was spotless now, and Pray—still immobilized—seemed to have been cleaned as well. It was just the two of us again.
With a sigh, I continued my data collection. I skipped his scheduled sedative dose; he’d had more than enough for one day.
Everything was calm, yet the events of yesterday replayed in my mind. I thought back to the taste of his blood in my mouth—a detail I hadn’t considered until now. What if he infected me with something? Pulling out a syringe, I drew my own blood, placing the sample into a metal tray with holding tubes. The machine beeps as it seals shut, then begins whirring and clicking, scanning my blood for any abnormalities.
I waited, glancing at the clock. It was already evening, and I could tell it would be a long, drawn-out night. My thoughts drifted from the lab, settling on my family back home. If they only knew… how their little girl grew up to be part of this. But it was all classified. No one would ever know about Pray. Such knowledge would die with me—or anyone who dared to protect it.
The machine beeped again, snapping me back to the present. The results flickered onto the screen. All negative for blood-borne illnesses. At least they kept him clean.
A soft grunt came from the cell.
My gaze immediately shifted to Pray, who was beginning to move. His mass of tendrils slowly retracted, coalescing back into his human form. And there he was, naked. I instinctively turned away, a reflex born from some lingering sense of privacy. But then I stopped myself—he wasn’t human. He didn’t even understand shame. So why did it matter?
When I turned back to my desk, I caught my breath in surprise. He was standing right at the glass wall, undressed, both hands pressed flat against the surface, his red eyes fixed unwaveringly on me.
I hesitated, unsure of what to do. The sight of him, so exposed, made me self-conscious in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
I stood and approached the glass, his gaze following me with each step. I knew he could hear me through the small holes in the barrier. “You should put your clothes on,” I said, turning slightly to avoid his direct stare, my eyes flicking to the wall as if to grant him some dignity. But he didn’t move. He simply stood there, still as stone, watching me. I sighed, wondering if he even understood what I meant.
“You came back…” he said softly, his voice carrying an odd weight.
I hesitated before answering. “Yeah, I did.”
“Did… I do something wrong?” His voice was flat, monotone. “Is that why you refused me?”
I froze. This was it—confirmation of what I’d suspected all along. He didn’t understand the implications of his actions with humans. He hadn’t tried to harm me out of malice; he simply didn’t know any better.
As I looked at him more closely, I noticed red marks all over his body, even the bite from the other day—still raw but without scars. He seemed to heal faster than normal beings.
“It’s…complicated,” I said, searching for the right way to explain human interactions.
“Complicated…?” he echoed, tilting his head in confusion.
I decided to be direct. “You can’t just force yourself on people.”
“Why not? We are compatible and therefore made for me. Are you not mine?”
Whoa. I blinked, taken aback by his reasoning. For some reason, he believed in ownership and compatibility with me, which he was very wrong about.
“First of all, you can’t just claim strangers. Secondly, we aren’t compatible—”
“But we are!” he growled, pressing his hands firmly against the glass. I couldn’t help but notice the shift in his expression—anger, or something close to it, breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. Anger being one of them.
“That’s impossible,” I said, trying not to provoke him further but genuinely confused.
“Your body tells me… it is,” he replied quietly, slipping back into that unsettling monotone.
“What do you mean by… my body?” I asked, wary.
“You were made for me,” he insisted, a note of finality in his voice.
This wasn’t going anywhere. I sighed, backing away from the glass wall, and came to a halt as the lab door opened.
“Dr. Collins,” Graves called out, approaching with a clipboard in hand.
