Hybrids: An Indoraptor Story ✓

Animal Farm

||𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏5𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎||

Waking felt more like a dream than reality ever did.

The white hybrid's talons clicked and twitched, two morbid red eyes burning like hidden rubies under a sleek silver sun. A reverberated hum was all she could hear -- while it helped withhold the ringing in her ears, it failed to tame her growing headache. Or any ache, for that matter -- her whole body still buzzed with the faint aftershock of battle.

A battle she lost.

The adrenaline in her system was slow to arrive, too, driving against a faint haze of fog clogging her veins. Then it would rub against her mind, persistent that she'd rise up to the world, and she did.

Slowly. She wasn't accustomed to sleeping for so long.

Indy growled and groaned, hoping primal sounds could nullify the annoyance in her head. Her vision was now just a bloom of white blurs, gray blobs, and suspicious hints of deep dark blue.

Where am I?

And she was numb all over. Even if Indy managed to muster enough energy to move her body she'd fail to react as quickly as her younger self. Every pain receptor within had shut off completely, making her limbs feel like jelly. A claw drew to the base of her neck -- the damages here were patched by something leathery and thin. Scent, taste, thought, and sound became mute to her mind, voiding her the chance to study herself, and she didn't like it one bit.

So the indominus rex pushed to all fours, trying her best to make way for her surroundings with what little effort she could give. The earth was tested first -- a thump of her tail sent vibrations to her fingertips, and put a low-level growl back in her throat. There was no need to feel when echolocation was gifted to you.

Concrete floor. Shaded Ceiling. Four lights.

She then rubbed her body against the walls, tail snaking against abiotic flesh until she struck another corner. The vibrations of the surface to her snout was enough of an indicator.

Metal walls.

Indy moved on. Pacing through her emotionless state, her nostrils bumped against an invisible wall before her, winning a confused grunt from the female.

Glass?

She rounded back and forth against the space cut off from sheer reach. Sniffing the empty pane (and ending up with nothing), her eyes began flexing in and out of focus, a single realization coming to the forefront of her mind.

Glass...

She lifted a talon, tapping against the thick fragment twice. Then she hesitated. Glass was fragile, thin, easy to break -- why give a hybrid the benefit of the doubt? Even for humans, that seemed far-fetched.

Returning to her original mission, the hybrid drew closer to the window frame, watching little puffs of steam fog up what little she could see. 

But, as she inhaled, Indy's mind began to twist fact and fiction, and no longer did she stare into the empty blackness of what stood before her. Now she looked downward, the sloped ridges of the window now rounded and marked with blue plastic. 

And, just a bit further down into that orb of glass sat two strange blobs -- humans -- staring right back up at her. Jaws agape in a silent scream. 

Terrified.

Indy's heart stopped. Her claws began to twitch, a slither of drool oozing down her maw. She didn't know why. Despite her growing anxiety, the intrusive thoughts still won. And, without even realizing it, Indy stabbed the same claw straight through the wall.