Chapter 8: Howl at the Moon

If Paige hadn’t overheard those security guards, the general air of tense anticipation around the base would have been enough to clue her in that something was going down today.

It wasn’t necessarily anything overt – she still only ever crossed paths with so many people in the few common areas located around the facility, like the cafeteria and her hall’s shared bathroom. Normally, no one spent much time galivanting around those areas – they were for fulfilling your body’s natural functions, not for fraternization.

Because of the Director’s draconic security measures, staff rarely spoke to anyone outside of their own departments. Since Paige was the only one in hers, that didn’t leave her very many options in the way of socialization.

Even so, the energy she picked up from others just in passing was palpable. Several times, she’d heard excited whispers that would cut to a stop the moment she entered a room. Security began conducting random stops, checking credentials to make sure everyone was where they were meant to be.

And sometime over the last few days, she’d noticed that the yellow handles of the guard’s tasers had been switched out for the black curvature of semi-automatic pistols.

The moment Paige stepped out of her room to find the Director, flanked by two guards on the other side, she knew that that guard’s suspicions had to be correct. There was something big happening in Project Far Side starting today.

And whatever it was, it had to do with Sebastian.

“Good morning, Dr. Torres,” the Director said in greeting.

“Director Wen,” Paige nodded in turn. “To what do I owe the pleasure of you and your large, armed friends?”

Normally, this would be when Wen gritted her teeth at Paige or sometimes even outright rolled her eyes. This time, however, she only smiled – a gesture that was only made all the more unsettling for the genuine glee behind eyes that were usually guarded as a rule.

“Will you walk with me?” She motioned for Paige to venture forward, leaving her little else choice but to comply.

Paige followed her through the building in silence, uncomfortably aware of the armed guards at their backs the whole time. When the Director led her to the facility’s front entrance and stepped through the front door, Paige finally balked.

Wen turned to her, smirking in sardonic amusement. “Come now, I would have thought you’d be clawing at the walls for a taste of fresh air by this point.”

Oh, she was. The facility had a nice gym with a track that even had a huge skylight in the ceiling, but it had done little to tamp down the stir crazy. However, no part of her thought it was a good idea to follow this woman into the woods alone.

All traces of amusement evaporated from the Director’s face. “We’re on a schedule, Dr. Torres.”

Paige pressed her lips together but continued forward. She inwardly sighed in relief when the Director turned away from the dense, remote tree line and instead led her down a footpath that circled the facility. The path turned into a packed dirt and gravel road that did enter the woods, but the road was maintained and well-lit. The metallic glint of security cameras posted every few dozen yards helped to put her at ease.

“Do you know what polar night is, Dr. Torres?” Director Wen posed the question as they rounded a bend that took them to an elevated vantage point where Paige could see the horizon in breathtaking detail.

She’d thought that the view from Sebastian’s room was hard to beat, but the brisk Alaskan air and the sight of the sun dipping below a distant mountain ridge were almost otherworldly – the sort of sight that simply wasn’t accessible to those who never dared to wander.

“I don’t,” she replied.

The Director nodded toward the slowly darkening horizon. “When the sun finishes setting tonight, it will not rise again until late January. For the next three months, we will live, sleep, and breathe complete and total darkness.”

Three months. Paige had heard of some places that experienced long bouts of daylight and darkness. She’d never imagined experiencing it for herself, though. Weathering through the enigma that was Project Far Side was daunting enough without having to do so in the black of unending night.

“Seems like it’ll do a number on morale,” Paige retorted.

“Oh, it will be,” Wen replied, not sounding at all concerned for the mental fortitude of her staff. “Humans were not made to prosper among the dark. There are secrets there. Mysteries that thrive where others cannot see.”

“And we’re here to discover them.”

“That’s what sets you apart from the rest of us here, Dr. Torres. You think too small.” Paige bristled at the casual insult, but Wen continued on. “We haven’t gone to so much effort for the simple sake of discovery. We’re here to harness the unknowable."

“Sounds an awful lot like you’re playing God.”

The Director smirked, her lips twisting into an ugly scornful gash. “Much like history, god is defined by the trailblazers. The strong. Despite our…differences, I believe that you have the potential to be counted among that number,” she said. “You’ve stared down the face of the unfathomable a time or two.”

“If you’re referring to my area of expertise, psychosis isn’t unfathomable. If it were, I wouldn’t have a job.”

“What about evil?

“Good and evil are human constructs. Necessary, but contrived all the same. We have a set of moral values that are designed to help our species thrive. Anything that goes against those values we consider evil.”

“And you don’t?”

Paige worried the inside of her lip with her teeth as she considered her words. “We aren’t the only ones who’ve developed a moral compass, even if we in the West tend to think what we say goes,” she finally answered. “At the end of the day, we’re all just a bunch of walking primal urges.”

The Director hummed thoughtfully, a speck of a genuine smile tinging her lips. “I must admit that I’m surprised to hear your conclusions so closely reflect mine.”

Paige turned away from the sunset to face the Director fully. “Make no mistake, Director Wen,” she warned. “There is a difference between the primal and the perverse. Intent. It’s ultimately up to others to decide where your actions land. Not you.”

They shared a long look, exhausting their battle of wills as the sun set for the last time for a long time.

“Please, escort Dr. Torres back to her room,” the Director called to the guards still standing watch behind them, her intent gaze never leaving Paige’s. “You’ll want to freshen up before reporting to your station this afternoon, Paige. Tonight is a big night.”

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Paige decided to take the Director’s advice and prepare herself for whatever she might find once she reached the top floor.

What she walked into looked an awful lot like a board meeting. Director Wen stood outside of Sebastian’s observation room, surrounded by a handful of doctors in matching long white coats, each holding a clipboard and pen.

“Dr. Torres, allow me to introduce you to the Department Heads of Project Far Side. Dr. Singh of Biochemistry, Dr. Rickshaw of Microbiology, Dr. Prim of Physiology and Neurobiology, and Dr. Eustace of Zoology. They will be joining me in observing your session today.”

Paige immediately clocked the different doctor’s disciplines, noting the mix to puzzle through later. It also didn’t escape her notice that the Director knew that she’d do exactly that. She was being entrusted with this information for a reason, and Paige sincerely doubted it was because her willful spirit had grown on her employer.

She nodded at the line of observers who nodded back as she proceeded into Sebastian’s room. Paige didn’t settle into her chair as she did sit ramrod straight, her attention split between casing the room for changes and remaining on alert for the Director’s next move.

“Good afternoon, Subject Alpha. Or, evening, rather,” she started, gazing out into the dark expanse beyond his exposed wall of windows. “It’s a shame there’s no moon tonight. What a waste of a perfectly lovely view.”

Sebastian groaned, deep and guttural from the pit of his chest. He doubled over, resting his elbows against his knees as he buried his face in the palms of his hands.

A sudden shock of fear raced up Paige’s spine.

So similar to that day in August when she’d been taken unawares…

Her lips trembled slightly as she spoke. “Y-your manacles. They removed them.”

Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he breathed deeply, as if in pain. “You’re afraid.”

“A little,” she whispered. But not of you.

At least, she didn’t want to be afraid of him. In the week that they’d known one another, she’d come to consider Sebastian a friend. He was certainly one of the only people here she came even remotely close to trusting.

The fact remained, however, that she’d been asking for Sebastian to be made more comfortable for days, and the Director had refused. Until tonight. When a half-dozen other project leads were along for the ride.

Every alarm bell Paige had was going off, but she couldn’t bring herself to blame Sebastian for any of them. Even if he did mean her harm, he looked…ill.

He groaned again, the pained grunt lengthening into an awful moan as his muscles visibly tensed all at once. It almost looked like he’d been tasered.

“Seb…Subject Alpha, are you alright? What did they do to you?”

“Distract me, Dr. Paige.”

She shuddered when he did, his visible agony bringing her close to tears. “W-what do you need distracting from? What’s happening to you?”

He huffed a sharp exhale through his nose. “You and all your damn questions,” he chuckled.

Or tried to chuckle. Another full-body muscle spasm made his jaw clench so hard she heard his teeth grind together.

“Something about yourself,” he panted. “Something that makes you happy.”

She had to bite back a sob as she looked between him and the two-way mirror, wondering what they’d done to him and why no one was intervening to stop his suffering. “I…I like to paint. And I sketch, but those n-never quite come together until I put color to it.”

He peered up at her through his thick lashes, sweat clinging to their upturned tips. “You’re an artistic soul.”

“I used to be. Ever…ever since my attack, nothing comes out the way I like,” she whispered.

“You’re being too closed-minded, Dr. Paige,” he reprimanded through another spasm. “Art is about expression.”

She bit her lip to wrangle her own staggering breaths. “But with my hand, I can’t.”

“Who said it was you that needed expressing?” He countered. His hands went rigid, claw-like, as he gripped the bed frame hard enough that she heard it creak. “Maybe there’s something else that needs its story told through you.”

Paige breathed out a soft laugh. “What do you know about it?”

He smirked. “I may be a monster, but I’m a damned cultured one.”

He laughed until it morphed into something like a howl. His spine bowed with the force of his next spasm, sending Paige shooting to her feet. “Sebastian!”

Through the veil of sweat and pain, his forest green eyes met hers as agony seemed to twist his features. When he spoke, his voice was guttural. Unrecognizable.

“Remember who the monsters are, Paige.”

Then he howled, a real howl, and his features began to bend and morph beyond the bounds of what her mind could feasibly consider natural. Thick tufts of sable fur began to sprout up along the length of his arms, his angular face lengthened and narrowed as razor-sharp fangs burst from his gums.

Where Sebastian had stood before her, a thing of myth and legend now replaced.

Seven feet of muscle and fur. Claw, and fang.

He – It – threw its head back and howled.

Paige shrieked.

Sebastian lunged.

It all went black.