The Tamed Beast

Chapter I

I walked down the hall to the main lab, clip board in hand, and as I heard my shoes collide with the marble I realized that I was going nowhere fast. I was doing the same thing everyday. I was 16 and never learned how to drive, I never been to a concert, I never had a hot dog, and I was beginning to miss food. I know this all sounds strange to be thinking this, but I have had this dumb job for four years and was still not use to it. Deep in thought, I slammed head first into the door to the main lab. I fell to the ground and just lied there thinking still until my boss came to the door.

“What the hell, Hannah!” He chastised me.

My boss was a boy no older than me named Elijah. He was tough, and since I signed the contract, allowed to give me physical punishment.

I stood up and rubbed my head. My head began to throb.

“Did you break anything?” Elijah asked, picking up my clip board and handing it to me.

I looked down at myself, then looked back at Elijah and shook my head.

“Good; then get your lazy ass back to work!” He barked at me, striding away, bumping me in the process.

Elijah had a habit of cursing for no apparent reason. I got use to it.

I could stand the yelling, just not the hitting.

Walking into the main lab, all the younger test subject ran up to me, greeting me with warm ‘good mornings’ and beautiful smiles.

I’m sure I mentioned before that these weren’t your average test subject; if I didn’t let me do so now.

Each of the children had died. All of them use to be a corps two years ago, or even two days ago. The scientists I work for take the bodies of dead humans and infuse it with some animal DNA. They revive the body, and then they are alive again. The part they were not expecting was that the test subject began developing some animal traits; animal ears, tails, and an animal appetite; which is why we keep them in Area 52 with us for further testing.

The thing is…most of the child subjects die when they reach the age of 15.
That’s the cut off.

My job is to check up on them in the morning. I check there hearing, heartbeat, eye sight, teeth development, and give them their daily shots. Instead of eating here, we give everyone food pills or shot; the workers her also. After I do my rounds on all 19 of the children subjects, I check up on Duncan.

Duncan is the very first subject that Area 52 tested the animal DNA fusion on. After they did, though, Duncan was let back out into civilization, and after a while he went crazy and started killing people for food. He was infused with a panther, so when he couldn't’t find any antelope in the big city, he decided to hunt the people instead. This made Area 52 look bad, so they brought Duncan back in and locked him into solitary confinement.

Duncan refuses to talk to Elijah, and doesn't’t know Joe, so he talks to me.
Duncan was my best friend before he died, so I guess
he remembers me in a way.

I walk up to Duncan’s room; Joe was standing at the door with a gun. Joe’s job was to make sure Duncan didn’t escape or anything, because he has before and killed a little girl infused with a deer.

“Hey Joe!” I greeted my old friend. He had a serious face on.

“I.D…” he said in a monotone.

I rolled my eyes and took out my ID with a hideous picture of me. Joe smiled.

“I really didn’t need to see your ID, I just like laughing at the picture.” He said smirking at the ID.

I pouted and stuffed the ID back into my bag.

“Go on in…” Joe voiced, stifling his laughter.

I glared at him and type in the code. The huge metal door opened slightly, I had to pry it open. I stepped in and slammed the metal door shut. I sighed and turned around to see Duncan reading; his cat ear straight up in the air, and his tail batting at the dust on the wooden floor.

I took two steps toward him, and his yellow eyes shot up to look at me. I waved nervously, with a weak chuckle. He raised a brow and closed the book.

“Here…” he stated, throwing the book at my feet. “I’m done with it…”

I picked up the book, and stuffed it into my bag; then I took out my nursing equipment. Duncan was the hardest to check up on, because he hated shots, and had very sharp nails and teeth.

“Ready for your check up?” I asked a bit too cheerfully.

He huffed.

“Do I have a choice…”