THE SPECIMEN - A Frenrey Angst Romance

the thing.

TW: Blood, Violence, Abuse, Torture, Dissociation, Unethical Human(?) Experimentation

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

On the first day of winter, in a sterile test chamber at the Black Mesa Research Facility, a blue humanoid awakens for the first time. It looks like a sickly blue-grey baby with gross yellow eyes, not unlike those of a jaundice patient. The specimen has cat-like slitted eyes, pointed ears, long antennae, a blue tongue, and a long, prehensile tail like a kinkajou. It's somewhere in the uncanny valley. It looks nothing like a person, yet oddly human. Not that the scientists that created it would ever make the mistake of calling it human or treating it like one. No, the thing exists to learn more about the growth of synthetic life. It's not disposable, though. It's the thirty-sixth attempt at creating complex artificial life. It's the first success.

A scientist handles the thing, which they call Specimen Number 36, picks it up, and the thing bites into her arm. It has a set of razor-sharp teeth that cause her to bleed. The scientist hastily sets Number 36 down on the table, and a different scientist comes to look over the thing. It's anything but a regular child. It's too inhuman even to call a child. Suddenly, the tail drastically transforms, becoming slender and elongated, resembling that of a demon. With a sense of horrified curiosity, the scientist observes as the creature wraps its tail around itself and starts gnawing on its pointed end. The specimen looks up at the scientist through its cat-like eyes. He looks back at it. What a creature.

Specimen 36 grows alarmingly fast, reaching the physical and mental maturity of a 4-year-old by the end of its first year. Several tests are run on it, taking blood and marrow samples, but never anything that harms the thing until the second year. When Specimen 36 is around the maturity of a five-year-old, in the spring of its second year, it's still compliant with the scientists. They seize this opportunity to carry out an experiment that's more painful than before. They noticed that when they drew blood, the wounds closed incredibly quickly.

They attempt to sedate 36, but its inhuman nature stops it from falling asleep. It's only numbed. With twisted interest, they wield scalpels, scissors, and needles, cutting and poking the thing's skin, observing with fascination as the wounds heal. They cut its legs up, and it watches with a horrified intensity. It doesn't scream, which only urges the scientists to continue. If it doesn't feel pain, then it's harmless. Right? This continues for an hour. By then, 36's blood is splattered across the bedsheets, and the pain medication begins to wear off. The specimen makes a low, strained vocalization, and a string of yellow to orange bubbles comes from its mouth. It knows how to talk but chooses to communicate by singing. The colors all mean things, but scientists have never seen yellow to orange. 

The bubbles hit the scientist with the scalpel, and she feels a rush of terror as if she needs to get away as soon as possible. She resists the urge to run. The thing continues to sing as they continue to poke and cut it. It lets out dark red and crème colored bubbles. When they hit another scientist, he immediately drops his scissors and screams blood. This causes all the scientists to stop what they're doing. They depart, consoling the frightened scientist, neglecting the task of tidying up the mess they made. 

Number 36 is left alone in the test chamber. As its fingers run along the closed wounds on its skin, it sings soft, distressed watercress-colored notes. "No," it says. "No."

The scientist who had the scalpel earlier enters the room, carrying bedsheets. She gently lifts the thing from the bed, carefully placing it on the floor. She removes the sheets from the bed and replaces them. Number 36 makes a low and annoyed hum, and green-to-teal bubbles come out of its mouth. Go away. 

The scientist continues to clean the room, and Specimen Number 36 stands up. It uses its shapeshifting powers to grow sharper teeth and runs at the scientist. 36 digs its teeth into the scientist's leg, letting the liquid that forms their bubbles drip into the wound. This time it's black. The scientist is filled with hostility and an urge to attack the awful thing. She wraps her hands around its neck and chokes it. The thing dares to smile.

Another scientist rushes into the room, and the creature immediately stops smiling, replacing its smile with a silent scream. The other scientist yells at her.

"Don't kill It!"

"I'm not going to. Just ???????? It a ??????"

The thing doesn't understand the second scientist because she uses words it's never heard.

And the thing falls into a pit of blackness. It tries to sing, but nothing comes out. It looks around, and suddenly, the world fades back into view. Specimen 36 sees its corpse lying on the floor, with several scientists standing in a circle around it.

"It's dead."

The creature attempts to sing again. It can't. not dead! It wants to scream, but no words come out.

Benry wakes from the nightmare, involuntarily letting out a low hum, and a short burst of red bubbles comes out of his mouth. This is why he never sleeps. He gets out of bed to start his day as a security guard at Black Mesa.