The air grows heavier with each step, thick with a faint, almost imperceptible charge that makes the fine, rubbery scales along your body bristle. The dim, flickering light casts distorted shadows on the walls, making the already oppressive environment feel even more claustrophobic.
Damian clutches the flashlight in his trembling hands, his knuckles white against the cold, blackened metal.
"We’re close," he whispers, his voice a thin thread of sound swallowed by the eerie silence. "The central chamber should be just down this way."
…But something feels wrong. Deeply, instinctually wrong.
Your serpentine eyes dart toward the shadows stretching ahead, your pupils narrowing into sharp slits as you listen. At first, it’s nothing—just the faint hum of machinery, the distant hiss of escaping steam. But then—there it is. A sound. Subtle, yet unmistakable. The faint echo of movement. A scuff of claws against metal. A barely audible exhalation, low and deep.
You tense, your tail coiling slightly behind you, as you glance over your shoulder.
Damian flinches, the beam of his flashlight jerking erratically as he scans the corridor. "It’s probably nothing," he murmurs, though the tremor in his voice betrays his unease.
No, it’s not. You know you’re not alone.
The flickering light overhead seems to dim further as you advance, your senses sharpening with each step. The air itself feels alive, charged with an electric tension that prickles at your glossy scales. The faint squeak of your rubberized form moving against the floor only amplifies the silence, each sound echoing unnaturally in the stillness.
Then, without warning, a sharp clink of metal pierces the quiet.
Your head snaps upward just in time to see a hulking figure leaping from the ceiling—landing before you and Damian with a resounding crash that sends vibrations through the floor.
The impact throws your human companion off balance, and he stumbles back with a yelp, dropping the flashlight. The beam skitters across the floor before coming to rest on the figure now standing before you—a towering, emerald-scaled reptilian beast.
Your breath catches as the creature straightens, a distinctly masculine frame rippling with taut, rubber-coated muscle that shines faintly in the dim light. The shredded remains of a white lab coat cling stubbornly to his broad shoulders, a ghostly remnant of a life left behind. His golden eyes burn with feral intensity, their sharp, reptilian slits narrowing as he flexes his razor-sharp claws.
He’s a vision of primal power, chest heaving as he takes in the sight of you. A thick, reptilian tail lashes behind him, the sound of its movement—a rhythmic squeak against the floor—filling the silence.
You hear Damian stammer behind you – you don’t catch what he says. You can’t. You’re too captivated, too overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature before you.
He’s unlike anything you’ve seen before. The sight of him—towering, bestial, yet somehow exuding an air of intellectual authority—is almost… hypnotic.
As you study him,the beast’s lips curl back into a low, rumbling growl, revealing rows of sharp, glistening teeth. His glowing, yellow eyes flick between you and Damian, sizing you up, his expression a mix of curiosity and warning.
"If you value your life," he snarls, words measured and deliberate, "you will go no further."
The tattered coat flutters slightly as he shifts his weight, flexing his claws as if to emphasize the unspoken threat.
Damian stumbles behind you, wide-eyed, scrambling to pick up the fallen flashlight.
His breath comes in sharp gasps as he shouts, voice cracking with a mix of disbelieving fear and fury, "Curtis Irving! You… you’re the one who attacked the research teams! You started all of this—this entire mess!"
The green-scaled figure flinches at the name, a hoarse growl reverberating deep within him. His eyes narrow as his jaws curl in a snarl, exposing sharp fangs.
"You don’t understand what you’re walking into, serpent," Curtis rasps to you, gravelly voice tinged with anger and desperation. "That mockery of a man you’re protecting is no victim; he is the architect of all of this!"
Damian freezes, his flashlight trembling in his hands, its beam dancing erratically across Curtis’ scaled, muscular form. "What are you talking about?" he demands, his voice thin, almost pleading. "You’re the one who—!"
Curtis cuts him off with a venomous hiss, tail lashing against the floor with a sharp thwap. "You truly think I’m the monster here, don’t you?" he rumbles, taking a step forward, while you take one back. "All those lives ruined, all that suffering—it wasn’t me. It was him." His claws extend, gesturing toward Damian.
You shift back, your eyes narrowing as the weight of this ‘Curtis’s’ words, sinks in. Damian, on the contrary, shakes his head furiously, his pale face and light-blonde hair stark against the dim light.
"Don’t listen to him!" he shouts, voice breaking with panic. "He’s lying!"
Curtis barks out a harsh laugh, his golden eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and contempt. "Lying?" he spits, his voice rising. "Do you honestly believe I wanted this? Do you think I chose to become this… abomination?" He gestures to his towering, rubberized form, no remnant of humanity bar the last scrap of clothing adorning his body.
You feel the weight of Curtis’s gaze on you, his expression flickering between desperation and defiance. "You’ve been lied to, serpent," he continues, "the Blackstone isn’t some accident, nor is it some ‘force of nature’ we stumbled upon. It’s a weapon. His weapon."
Damian stammers, his voice trembling. "N-No, you have to believe me," he pleads, his eyes wide with terror. "I didn’t… I wouldn’t… He’s trying to manipulate you!"
But Curtis doesn’t relent. He takes another step forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over both of you.
"You can feel it, can’t you?" he says, his voice low and steady, his golden eyes bearing deep into yours. "That pull, that hunger. The Blackstone changes you. It twists your mind, your desires. And it’s all by his design."
The words hang heavy in the air, a storm of accusations and denials swirling around you. You glance between the two men—one human, alleged a monster—the other changed, yet unusually candid—your serpentine tail coiling behind you all as your mind races for decision.