Edith was busy reading through reports when she saw Dr. Wallace come in, along with two generals and a rather sizable military escort. There was also someone else in the middle of it all. It was Magnus Caledon II, the president’s eldest son.
“Sir,” Edith nodded, standing up.
“I’d like to see A129,” Dr. Wallace began.
“I didn’t receive any authorization on this,” Edith said. “What’s the contingent for? A129 is nothing more than a harmless human being-”
The military escorts began sweeping the room of listening devices. They found two, which horrified Dr. Delaney. She had never been given complete privacy and was thankful she hadn’t said anything against the government or against those who were fervently working for them.
“This is under direct orders, Dr. Delaney,” General Laxly said.
“A129 is not under your jurisdiction,” Edith said.
“She is under the government’s,” Dr. Wallace said, giving room for Magnus II to move in closer to Dr. Delaney.
“Dr. Wallace, the generals and I, stay. The rest of you, out,” Magnus II spoke.
His voice was deep and dangerous, unlike his father’s, which was quiet and commanding. He spoke with a distinct upper accent, the kind you only heard from royalty and politicians, and perhaps classic actors and actresses. He was a younger-looking version of the president, sans the graying hair, and his eyes were aloof. He had a scar on his upper eyebrow that made him look more menacing than he intended to be, and his uniform gleamed with military lapels and pins, as befitting the son of the president.
“Dr. Delaney, I presume?” Magnus II began, taking another step closer to her.
Edith Delaney held her breath. She had heard how this Caledon son was like. He was cold and ruthless, just like his father. She had only seen him on televised broadcasts, never in person in all her years of working for the facility. She had deemed they were an independent body, despite the fact that the facility she worked in had joint ties with the military.
“Sir,” she breathed. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“We want the test subject A129 destroyed,” Dr. Wallace began.
“Destroyed?” Edith repeated, unable to believe what she was hearing. “She’s been instrumental in every breakthrough we’ve had for the super soldier project!”
“We’ve decided to move on to something far more significant -- the cloning of the remaining werebeings,” General Laxly said.
Edith Delaney looked at Magnus II. She was waiting for him to say something, but he said nothing. “Your significant priorities have failed in the last twenty years,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Come now, she is but a test subject,” the other man, General Parker, reasoned.
Dr. Wallace smiled. “She has grown to care for A129.”
Edith saw a flicker of emotion in Magnus’ eyes.
“No. You are not doing anything to her. You might as well send her to some mental facility so she can live out the rest of her days-“
“And betray us?” General Parker began.
“Make her forget. We have medications for that; we have-” Edith was cut off by Dr. Wallace.
“I understand that she dreams? I’ve read her brain waves. She remembers certain things she thinks are just nightmares, repressed emotions while inside the facility. We wouldn’t want that,” Dr. Wallace told her.
“There’s been an order for this, duly signed and noted by everyone involved. At the end of the games, we pull the plug on this project. We will, of course, preserve tissue samples and blood samples for the remainder of the testing, perhaps her reproductive parts, in the event we’ll need it for cloning. She’s been sterile since-“
“No!” her voice rose. “You’re talking about killing someone who’s been nothing but obedient to our tests. She’s accepted this without reasoning. This facility should keep her and take care of her until the end of her days-“
“Dr. Delaney, with all due respect, she’s a twenty million dollar per year venture, and it’s something we’d like to transfer to militia. Your tests, despite the fact that there have been breakthroughs, have done minimal impact on the super soldiers, except for the use of her blood. We can clone this blood, so she can be put to rest,” General Laxly told her.
Put to rest? These men were animals! These men were the lowest of the low. She saw Magnus II’s face, and he remained stoic, never saying anything else aside from his greeting earlier. It was as if he was enjoying her discomfort.
“Gentlemen, if you please, I’d like a private word with Dr. Delaney. There are certain issues I wish she sees clearly,” Magnus II finally said.
The men quickly stepped out, and Magnus II motioned for Edith to sit on a chair.
She felt her heart pound, knowing that whatever he was going to say would affect not just Alexia’s life but everyone else’s in the facility as well.
General Laxly couldn’t hear a thing from outside, and neither could General Parker. Dr. Wallace was calmly reading through some files on his phone. Magnus II spoke in baritone, but they could hardly hear him talking inside Edith’s messy office. The conversation was over in five minutes, and Magnus opened the door to let them back in.
“I’ve spoken with Dr. Delaney, and I will inform the others to extend the project for another six months after the games, so we can harvest enough of her genetic samples. Budget won’t be an issue, of course; the rest of the year’s been funded for A129, am I correct?”
The generals nodded.
“It’s settled then,” Magnus announced, looking back at Edith.
The three men who had waited looked at the doctor. Her face was ashen, and her lower lip trembled.
Dr. Wallace smiled congenially at her. It was nothing personal, really. Just work. Soon, A129 would be a distant memory, another failed testing subject, useful only when dead.
*
It had been five days since the start of the games, and Ryker had met another werebeing, another one who wanted to be under his wing, his protection -- all because he was a werebear. She was slightly older than Three, but barely sixteen herself, looking smaller than most at her 5’2” stature and cropped blonde hair. Six was a werewolf, who looked relieved seeing Three and him walk into the part of the glade.
There were only four of them left, there was X003, X006, X013, and him, X014. It was strange they called each other by number, but in a way, it comforted them that they weren’t that intimate to begin with.
Six (a small werewolf) counted how many were left, actually memorizing the participants who were left and those who had left the world.
“There were only three of us who were female, and I’m the last one left. I hope you don’t eat me or anything,” she had joked nervously the moment they had met.
Ryker hadn’t shifted yet, much to the consternation of the watchers, the government, and the architects of the game. They were growing impatient for the action they wanted from the werebear, since it was rumored X014 was one. All this, without the knowledge of the werebeings in the arena. They were blind to every decision the government made, as was intended.
“I think we’ve staked out enough of the place for today,” Ryker announced, sitting down. His rib had begun to heal, and the open wound on his arm had begun to close as well. His chest was still heavily bruised, but it didn’t matter now. What was important was that he was healing enough to fend off whichever sadistic werebeings were left, away from Three and Six.
Despite the fact that any of them might die anytime soon, his new companions proved to be team players, taking turns to hunt for their meals, and even taking turns to care for Ryker when he needed it. They had asked him to shift, for fear that the remaining, more violent werebeings would suddenly attack, but Ryker wouldn’t hear of it.
“We’re resting again?” Six looked at him with concern.
“I’m fine. We just need to gather our strength for tomorrow,” Ryker told them calmly.
He felt tired, but even he wouldn’t want to admit it to himself. How long could he hold it off? What was X013 like? If he was a werefox, he’d probably let either Three or Six finish X013 off. Then the two remaining competitors could kill him instead. He was sure Three would be gentlemanly enough to let Six win…
Ryker sat against a boulder, under the heat of the sun. They were on top of another hill, surrounded by thin trees, giving them just enough shade; however, Ryker chose to sit where there was no shade at all. He saw Six doze off, tired from the trek, and Three was on his way to slumber land as well. He couldn’t very well sleep now.
Then, Ryker suddenly sat up straight. There was another scent in the air, something he had never smelled before. It was a different werebeing, and it had his senses on full alert now. He reached for Three, who promptly woke up, startled.
Ryker put a finger on his lips and pointed west. Three’s eyes widened, suddenly smelling the newcomer who was a mere kilometer away. Three leaned forward to lightly tap Six’s leg to wake her up. Six woke up, immediately shielding her face, thinking she was being attacked.
She frowned seeing Three, who then motioned to a direction. Then she inhaled the hot air and smelled another werebeing. Her eyes were suddenly gripped with fear.
“What is it?” Three mouthed.
“It’s the weretiger…” she whispered, almost inaudibly. Her hands started to shake. “He’s here; he wants me dead…”
“He wants us all dead,” Ryker told her. “Get up, we have to move.”
“No, you don’t understand. He won’t stop,” Six told them with a trembling voice and trembling hands.
“Well, we stop him here. Then, you two can decide who wins,” Ryker said.
Three looked at him dubiously. “Are you kidding me? Thirteen is responsible for more than half the kills here. He’s out for manslaughter.”
“And there’s three of us. We can stop him.”
“We can’t. But maybe you can…” Six responded.
Ryker shook his head. “I said we’d do this together.”
“He’ll kill us,” Six moaned quietly, “he’ll stop at nothing. I was with another, and escaped.”
“You didn’t tell us this,” Three accused her.
“This isn’t the time to blame her. He’s a weretiger. He’s tracked us down for days,” Ryker said.
“The end goal is you, Fourteen,” Three told him. “You’re the star here. We’re just ordinary werebeings.”
Ryker sighed. “You have got to be kidding me. Don’t place me on a pedestal just because they say I’m a werebear. We do the best we can, then decide who among the two of you wins, and that’s final,” Ryker insisted.
“No, you’re a werebear for a reason,” Six protested.
“We’re all werebeings for reasons we don’t know,” Ryker said, almost angrily. “Now, we have to move, unless you want to face-” Ryker stopped. It was too late now.
His heart pounded as someone else stepped into the small clearing. Six and Three looked to where he was facing, and then Six slowly backed away. Facing them was a six foot and five inch tall young man, with a shock of white hair on one parted side. He had a long scar on his cheek from something that had recently occurred.
“How is it possible,” the weretiger began, “that the supposed werebear, the only werebear here, is smaller than I am?” His voice was a low growl, and his eyes had yellow irises. “Ah, Six, I’ve been looking for you…” he said, eyeing the small, tawny-furred werewolf.
Six and Three had quickly shifted, their eyes still watery from the pain of the change. Three was almost as large as Six, despite being a werefox.
“How about we make this fair and square? You two,” Thirteen began, facing Six and Three, “you kill each other while I finish off our celebrated werebear here.”
They moved, but they stood behind Ryker this time, growling and snapping at him.
“You have an army to back you up,” Thirteen began, still not shifting at all. He was still menacing in his human form, and he meant to intimidate with every minuscule move. There was something in his eyes, some history of pain and torture and every imaginable anguish that had to be let out. Ryker saw that he was itching to kill him in front of the other werebeings and give the spectators a show to talk about in the years to come.
Was he willing to give them a show? Ryker knew he had to be in control of the situation, whether he wanted to be in it or not. And the younger werebeings counted on him, he who was but a mere two years older. He, who had nothing to show to them, except what he had learned and experienced in all those years of loneliness and constant running.
“Why don’t we settle this ourselves? Seeing you’re all riled up to bully these two into submission,” Ryker replied.
“Into submission? You’ve got it wrong, werebear; that is, if you truly are one. I’m not set to see them grovel before me. I’m here to kill them, and I’m here to kill you. There can only be one winner,” Thirteen told him in a low voice. “Once I’m through with them, I’m all set for dinner, and then I just might have you for seconds.”
“Cannibal,” Ryker said disdainfully, his feet firmly planted on the ground.
“Watch me,” Thirteen replied.
With the blink of an eye, Thirteen shifted into a larger than life weretiger, all white with black stripes; his teeth menacing, and his paws filled with sharp claws. Had he grown so accustomed to shifting that there were no traces of pain as he did so?
The weretiger snarled at Ryker, snapping its jaws in a display of intimidation and power. His eyes blazed yellow and red, ready to lunge at anyone’s neck to snap it. He prowled about sensuously, as if trying to distract the three remaining werebeings with his rippling fur. Ryker stared in amazement. It was the first time he had seen a weretiger shift right in front of him.
Behind Ryker, the younger werebeings were riled up with excitement. It was that animalistic side of them taking over; a kill was a kill, no matter what.
“Stay behind me,” Ryker warned the younger and overeager werebeings. “Don’t you dare move...”
He heard Six huff in frustration, and Three let out a small growl. I know, I know, he thought. A connection was made for any werebeing that had accepted a fellow werebeing, and it seemed like it was nothing short of mental telepathy for them. He could not read Thirteen’s mind, however. There was a sadism in Thirteen that Ryker could not swallow, and it prevented him from speaking to the weretiger.
Thirteen snarled back at them, angry at Ryker. He had wanted to kill the nuisance contenders first. Without another breath, Thirteen lunged at Ryker, sending Ryker reeling to the ground, his paws on top of Ryker’s chest.
Ryker groaned, feeling the claws dig into his skin.
“Stay back!” he shouted to the other werebeings.
Six looked at Three, her eyes glowering at him. She knew they needed to do something, but they had to follow the alpha male. She fought off every inch of temptation to launch an attack against the weretiger that was threatening the life of the only werebear.
The weretiger’s saliva dripped on Ryker’s chest, and then he raised a paw high in the air to swipe at Ryker’s throat. Ryker caught his paw just in time with both hands, but Thirteen wasn’t deterred. Instead, he raised another paw, swiping it at Ryker.
Ryker felt the blow on his jaw, the sharp nails peeling off skin and muscle. Ryker groaned, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He heard Six yelp, and Three pounced forward. Thirteen snarled in his face, and the bellowing of the weretiger echoed in Ryker’s ears, rendering him partially deaf and disoriented.
That was when Three jumped into the air and onto Thirteen’s back, biting into fur and skin. The weretiger wailed, quickly reaching onto his back, and pulling behind to grab the werefox, flinging him against a rock. Without another moment wasted, Six launched an attack, biting onto Thirteen’s paws. She clung onto his paws for as long as she could, and Ryker scrambled away from them as Three went for Thirteen’s throat. The once pristine weretiger now had blood trailing all over his fur, but he held onto Six’s throat, his claws burying themselves into Six.
Six began to choke, her legs flailed inches off the ground, and Three was doing his best to chomp on Thirteen’s neck. Using both hands, he wrung on Six’s neck, squeezing the life out of her. Satisfied, he flung her to the ground; her eyes had become unseeing.
Ryker gasped, knowing Six was dead. Three had become ferocious, ripping the skin off of Thirteen, angry at how he had ended Six’s life so easily. Thirteen tried to shake Three off of him and then decided to grab him by the tail, chucking Three back and forth like a wet rag on the solid ground.
“We’re giving them the show they all want. That final face-off between the last of us,” Thirteen hissed in an animal-like voice, as he let go of Three who crumpled in a heap.
Ryker’s eyes widened as he stared at Thirteen. The weretiger could talk; talk in human words! How was this possible? No one else could… he had thought he was the only one who could.
Thirteen gave a laugh, a laugh that was a cross between an animal’s howl and a human’s. It sounded sadistic; it sounded wicked. “You thought I couldn’t speak? And that I had to be emotionally connected to you?” he taunted at Ryker. “You, who refuses to bend to the will of the games? You think you can be human for so long when you’re here?”
Thirteen’s steps thudded as he bent down to pick Three. He held Three in both hands and elevated the unconscious werefox high in the air. Then he began to tear the young boy apart as Ryker watched in horror.
“Stop it!” Ryker shouted, “Stop it!”
The weretiger didn’t hear him. He was intent on spilling blood and showing them all what he was truly capable of. He was built to be a soldier; he was built to take commands and orders. He was built to kill. He heard bones break, and he smiled, but before he could begin to grip his claws on the young man’s body, Ryker hurled himself at him, and Thirteen stumbled, taking Three down with him on the ground.
One look at Three’s eyes, and Ryker knew he was dead, too. He felt an anger grow inside him, an anger that had been violently suppressed as a child, suppressed even more when he saw his parents inside plain wooden coffins, lowered onto the earth. He felt a rage that he had glimpsed when they had shocked that poor girl in the facility; he felt a rage that he was imprisoned once more, when he had avoided the government’s trappings all this time.
He had escaped for nothing; his childhood had ended, and now his adolescence would, too. Blood rushed into his head, into his hands, his legs. He felt a heat that raged into a fever. His jaw felt like breaking, his bones felt like breaking. His mouth salivated, and he could feel the sharp pain of his back. He began to shift, and Thirteen could only watch in awe.
In a heartbeat, and now in front of Thirteen, was the werebear that everyone had waited to see for so long.