novelraw Chapter 406: Just A Bit Of Blood
Chapter 406: Just A Bit Of Blood
Elias felt the lab change before he heard anything.
A shift in the air pressure. A change in the electrical hum of the hallway. A subtle tightening in the muscles along the guards’ shoulders. It was the kind of silent, instinctive readiness soldiers got when something stronger than them approached.
And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.
She’s coming. The creature’s voice slid across the inside of his skull like cold metal scraping stone.
Try not to embarrass us. Again.
Elias ignored it and checked the restraints on the sample rack for the third time—not because they needed checking, but because his hands needed movement.
He could not look like he was waiting.
He could not look like he was bracing.
He was a doctor—this was his lab—this was his domain, he reminded himself. Logic. Precision. Control.
But even he understood the truth, this domain wasn’t his the second she stepped into it.
The sound of boots approached first. Multiple pairs, all heavy, synchronized, and deliberate. The cadence of a containment escort: two front, two rear, two flanking, guns down but not relaxed.
And beneath that:
The sound of chains, of metal dragging softly against the floor.
He swallowed. The creature mocked it instantly. Listen to you. Already shaking. If I had hands, I’d slap you. I tried to behave the way you wanted me to... all analytical... but clearly you don’t understand anything. So instead of acting how you want me to be, I’ll show you the truth of what I am.
Elias straightened just as the lab door hissed open. Two soldiers entered first—helmets sealed, rifles angled low but hot, movements tight. They stepped aside to flank the doorway—
—and Sera entered.
Or rather... Sera was pulled into the room the way one pulls a blade out of a sheath. Inevitable. Sharp. Unmistakable.
Her wrists were locked in steel restraints, hands in front of her, linked by a short chain. Ankles cuffed as well. The metal was heavier than standard restraints—brushed titanium, reinforced at the hinge. The kind used for people who could break lesser metals by breathing too hard.
And still, she walked like they weren’t there.
Calm. Balanced. Barefoot. A smear of dried coolant marked one ankle from the explosion in Chamber Nine. Her hair was slightly tangled, her expression unreadable—not blank, not passive. A stillness that wasn’t emptiness but calculation.
A stillness Elias had seen only in predators deciding whether something in front of them was prey or irrelevant.
And the creature inside him reacted like it had been starving for weeks. Little river... The voice dropped into a low, vicious purr. There you are. Finally. It feels like forever since I last saw you.
Elias gripped the edge of his workstation so hard his knuckles blanched.
He told himself he wasn’t reacting. He told himself this was clinical interest.
But the creature laughed at him. You are reacting. Pathetically. Try not to whine. She already doesn’t have the best impression of us.
Mercer stepped in behind her, hands clasped behind his back, posture crisp. He didn’t touch her—none of the soldiers dared—but he walked with the quiet ownership of a man who believed the room still belonged to him.
It didn’t.
The room belonged to Sera the second she breathed in it.
Mercer approached Elias’s workstation. "Doctor. Your subject."
Elias hated the phrasing. Sera’s gaze swept the room. She didn’t look frightened. She didn’t look angry. She looked... curious.
As if she were touring a new exhibit. As if the guards were incidental. As if the chains were jewelry.
Her eyes finally slid to Elias and her eyelids lowered the faintest amount. She smiled softly as she looked at him, but he could feel that she wasn’t actually looking at him. It was like she could see through him and to the thing living inside of him.
Like he was nothing without his creature
"Elias," she murmured. His heart hit his ribs at the sound of her voice. The creature inside of him pressed forward so hard he nearly staggered.
She said our name. A low, hungry laugh. The sun remembers her shadow.
Elias cleared his throat. "Sera."
She tilted her head slightly—the same tilt she used when examining a body, a creature, a weapon. Measuring. Deciding. Filing away conclusions she wouldn’t voice.
The guards shifted uneasily.
She wasn’t doing anything.
She didn’t have to.
Predators didn’t roar to remind others what they were.
Mercer broke the silence first. "Doctor Korkmaz will be evaluating your physiology more thoroughly. The earlier machine failed."
Sera blinked once. "That seems a bit harsh. It didn’t fail. It simply died."
Mercer’s jaw flexed. "Yes."
"It screamed first," she added, as if she needed to remind Mercer of what happened mere minutes ago.
Elias felt a bead of sweat form at his temple.
The creature purred. She enjoyed that. Good. Machines shouldn’t touch her. Only teeth.
Mercer gestured toward the central platform—the reinforced medical bed bolted to the floor. Not as advanced as Chamber Nine’s table. Bare metal. Restraint points. Lines for IVs that Elias refused to acknowledge yet.
"Have her secured," Mercer instructed.
Two soldiers moved toward her.
Sera didn’t move.
She didn’t resist.
She didn’t make a sound.
But Elias felt something shift in the air—pressure tightening, temperature dropping, the faint metallic taste of danger blooming on his tongue.
Idiots. The creature spat the word like venom. She allows you to touch her. You do not take her.
"Don’t," Elias snapped out a quick warning, unable to help himself.
The soldiers froze. Mercer’s head turned sharply toward him.
Elias caught himself. "I mean—let me do it. They’ll provoke her."
Sera’s eyes flicked toward him again.
This time there was a sliver of amusement inside of them.
Mercer nodded once. "Proceed."
Elias exhaled slowly and approached her.
The creature surged so violently that Elias’s fingers twitched. Touch her wrong and I will end you from the inside. Slowly. Painfully. With all the scientific precision that you seem to enjoy.
He forced his voice steady. "I need your wrists."
She lifted them slightly—not offering, not yielding—simply making space, the way one might adjust their posture to make a scalpel’s job easier.
Elias unlocked the front chain, hands careful, deliberate. Her skin was cooler than his but not cold. The restraints clinked faintly as he guided her to the platform.
She stepped onto it without being pushed.
Then lay back.
She looked up at the lights as though this were an inconvenience rather than an act of captivity.
When Elias reached for the restraint clip near her right wrist, the creature hissed: Do not bind her. You look at these cuffs and think control. I look at them and think insult.
"I’m not hurting her," Elias muttered under his breath.
You are obeying a man who would vivisect her. That qualifies as hurt.
He snapped the lock into place—gently, as gently as one could with steel. Her wrist didn’t flinch. Her hand didn’t tense.
He secured her left wrist next.
Then crouched to clasp the restraints at her ankles. The metal there was heavier, thicker, reinforced from earlier tests she survived.
Her foot brushed his shoulder accidentally.
He went rigid.
The creature went feral. Touch her again and I’ll take the wheel myself. You’re a guest in this skull, not the owner.
Elias swallowed hard.
Mercer’s voice came smooth and clinical. "Vitals?"
Elias stood and moved to the console. "Stable. Heart rate steady. Respiration calm. No abnormal spikes."
"Abnormal for a human," Mercer corrected.
Elias hated that the man was right.
He opened a drawer and pulled out fresh gauze, an alcohol pad, a small sampling syringe. Nothing invasive. Nothing she would interpret as threat.
Her eyes followed him anyway.
"Just a bit of blood," he said quietly.