Son of Lazarus

Chapter 14: Enter Soldier Number Two

December 19th, 2040
2:32 p.m.

   Darkness was the only thing he could see. Not a single source of light penetrated the forever dark. His senses had been heightened by the deprivation of light. The heavy smell of bleach and disinfectant filled the air.
   It came as no surprise to him; they always cleaned his cell whenever he made a mess. He could still feel the muscle between his teeth from the last time and felt as though time was ticking by slowly.
   An animalistic growl erupted from his throat, his lips peeling away from stained, sharpened teeth. He was growing impatient. He wanted to hunt, wanted to feel skin beneath his claws; feel the pulse of a heartbeat beneath his fingertips.
   He wanted to kill. The sound of the door's mechanism being unlatched caught his attention. He turned his head and fixed mint-green eyes on its location. A sudden hard, fluorescent white light flooded into the room, illuminating the door and casting the one who stood there in permanent shadow.

   Another got tossed into the room, landing against the hard floor with a dull thud. Fear-scent rose into the air of the confined space, nearly driving him insane. Someone had just been thrown into his cell.
   "Punish this disobedient mongrel, Solder Two," said the figure still standing in the doorway, his voice deep, firm, and commanding. "He's disobeyed me for a second time."
   A grin spread across his face, his sharpened, stained teeth visible in the darkness. Finally, his master gave him a chew toy. Slowly, Matthew turned toward the one who had been thrown into him.
   The man was young, roughly about twenty-five or younger; just a boy. Matthew moved, a delicious-sounding cry of fear rising from the boy.
   "Don't kill him," came the next command from his master. "I need him to stay alive."
   "Why," it was a question growling out from between Matthew's teeth. He strode across the floor to stand in front of the victim. Quick as a flash, Matthew's hand struck out and caught the boy around the throat.
   He pulled the boy onto his feet before forcing him against the wall. Matthew could feel the pulse of the young man's heart beginning to quicken beneath his fingers and another growl echoed out of Matthew's throat.

   "If he has displeased my master, why should he live?"
   "He has a family," said the commanding man in the simplest of manners. "And we don't need to be raising suspicion with the family, now do we my pet?" Matthew snarled, his sharpened canines glistening in what little light was pooling through the door that now rested at his left shoulder.
   "No, Master," he purred. Matthew turned his gaze to the boy again, feeling his hands gripping his wrist. Then he growled: "Injure, then?"
   "Yes," came the response. "Make certain he's learned his lesson."
   A sick, twisted smile appeared across Matthew's face, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Of course, Master," he hissed. Matthew's fingers tightened against the boy's throat, earning a cry from him.
   He listened as the door shut out the light, casting the room back into the forever dark. As soon as its mechanisms clicked shut, Matthew fell upon the boy. He listened as screams rose around the room, no doubt echoing out into the entire block.

   Matthew could feel the skin beginning to rip beneath his nails—no. His claws. The scent of blood rose into his nose, nearly driving him insane. It was enticing and Matthew could feel his animalistic instincts taking over.
   His sharpened canines grew in length about an inch and his pupils turned into narrowed slits. Matthew could feel his muscles beginning to bulge out, tearing at the fabric that encased his torso and making him much larger than he already was.
   Within a single blink of an eye, Matthew hoisted the boy into the air and threw him across the room, listening as the boy's back struck the wall with a crack. His tongue drew across his lips and teeth with sickening pleasure as a cry of pain rose from the young man.
   "Yessss," Matthew hissed, dropping onto all fours. The hair on his head began to lengthen until it was covering most of his features. His face had elongated into a sort of short muzzle, and even his voice had darkened, growing deeper as his features shifted.
   "Cry. Ssssssscream! It will do you no good here." Matthew crouched low to the floor, his limbs preparing to launch himself at the boy. His claws flexed against the floor beneath him, scoring marks on its surface.
   His shoulders flexed, muscles tensing. Then he sprang, claws outstretched. They scored marks across the boy's face, leaving bloody trails where the flesh had been torn away down his right eye. The boy screamed in pain and terror, his hands raising straight to his face as the stench of blood wafted into the air.

   Matthew grabbed hold of the boy's arm, jerking him around until he was splayed out on the floor. He planted a foot firmly against the boy's back, forcing his face into the cold stone. Matthew began to pull back hard, longing to hear the sound of muscles ripping apart.
   The more the boy cried, the harder Matthew pulled. He heard the sound of bone snapping, the arm threatening to break free of its socket. He would have yanked the arm clean of the boy's torso had it not been for the door's mechanisms springing open, washing them both in the hard light from the corridor.
   "Stop," called out the commanding voice of the one who had thrown the boy in here. Matthew ceased, dropping the boy's arm and backing away at the command. Now, he sat down in the far left corner of the room, his knees pulled up so that his arms rested against them, his fingers dangling in the air.
   He could hear the boy's ragged gasps of terror and sniffed. "Have you learned your lesson, boy?"
   Matthew watched as the boy vigorously nodded his head, trying to pull himself onto his knees with an arm pressed firmly against his ribs.
   "Good," there was a short pause in the man's voice before he continued: "Go get yourself looked at now."

   The boy finished pushing himself onto his feet and stagged out of the cell passed the man who had issued the command to harm him. When his footsteps faded from the corridor, Matthew turned his gaze upon his master.
   "When will I be able to kill, Master?"
   The man turned his head to look at him, his eyes locking with Matthew's mint-green ones. It was something not many people were able to do without having their fear on display.
   "When I have someone worth killing to give you, my pet," he said simply. "But I promise that once I have something for you to do, I will personally come get you."
   "Yes, Master," Matthew said with a dip of his head, his features beginning to shift back into those of a human. He watched as his master left the room, the door clicking shut when the mechanism was in place.
   Cast back into the forever dark, Matthew felt his earlier sense of impatience return to his chest, settling alongside a sense of frustration. He couldn't wait until his master called on him. He wanted to stretch his legs and dig his claws into someone's flesh. He had a feeling that it would come soon, and he was going to enjoy it.

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