You groan, a noise that comes out as a low, whistling hiss – and pinch the scales atop your snout. No way you were going to sit here, pan through this entire study, and not lose a few braincells… not more than you already had, anyway.
At the very least, more than a few keywords jump out at you—“Blackstone,” “mutagenic,” “mutation,” and… something about “dimensional fractures.” Still a confusing, covert mess though. Whatever this "Solarus Research Institute" was, you'd certainly never heard any organization by that name - not in your internet escapades, anyway. And all this was here in your town?
Your gaze flicks back to the desk, where the clutter of papers and notebooks continue to beckon your touch. Littered among the disarray, something catches your eye: a folded sheet of paper tucked beneath a half-empty coffee mug.
Carefully, you slide it free, unfolding it to reveal… a short, cryptic note written in hurried, uneven handwriting:
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The way out lies in the depths. Pool room, southeast corner. Dive deep. Don’t linger.
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You read it twice, and blink each time. A secret entrance, hidden in the pool room? Your tongue flicks instinctively, tasting the air for any trace of deception, but the note… smells, er, feels genuine—surely left behind by someone who wanted it to be found.
Setting it aside, and dropping the other scrap you'd found earlier aside with it, your tail swishes nervously behind you as you glance around the study one last time. The faint glow of the desk lamp feels almost oppressive now, its light casting long, claw-like shadows across the room.
Yeah, you don't think you want to read anymore right now.
Sauntering your way to the door, you take each step carefully and deliberately. The study’s heavy presses against your ears, broken only by the faint creaks of the floor beneath your feet. When you finally enter back into the hallway, the air feels slightly less oppressive—and you give a brisk sigh.
Referring back to the map you’d seen in the dining room, you chart a course to the pool room. Thankfully, contrary to your fears, no interruptions occur en route, as you soon reach the familiar doors leading inside.
You hesitate for a moment, a claw resting lightly on the handle. The note’s cryptic instructions echo in your mind—dive deep, don’t linger. So, with a steady breath, you push the door open.
The room greets you with quietness, air thick and humid, yet strangely cold. There at its center lies the in-ground… well, swimming pool. The colors of its contents shift and ripple like liquid light, blending and separating in a mesmerizing display – and now having seen it up close, it very much looks like latex, the very same kind which changed you.
You feel your vision blur, a memory surging forward, your tail snapping taut behind you, seizing in reflex. You hiss aloud, the sound echoing sharply off the walls, as the scene plays out in your mind like a waking nightmare.
The dim, suffocating tension, the desperate cries for help, and the horrific sight of that purple, latex-coated werewolf monstrosity lunging at a terrified teenage boy. You'd leapt to his defense, driven by instinct and a need to protect. You remember the fight—the snarling beast’s strength, the slick, unnatural texture of its rubbery hide as you fought tooth and claw. And then there was the other one—a blue, rubberized cat-like creature, barreling in to assist, ending the battle in your defeat, and subsequent humiliating torture – and complete stripping of humanity.
Your claws tighten into fists, the faint squeak of your rubbery form breaking the silence of the room. For a moment, you stand there, hissing softly to yourself, anger and unease swirling together in your chest.
Yet, your tail swishes sharply, a signal to yourself to regain focus – and you do, growling out a hiss, and shaking the rage out of your head.
Taking a few steps closer, your claws click softly against the tiled floor. The prismatic surface ripples gently, almost as if it’s alive (you’re confident it is), the faint trembling of your tail betrays the conflict roiling within.