Chapter Nine

The lab felt like the only place left, even if being there didn’t help much. The storm hadn’t let up, just like Tanya said it wouldn’t. And the villagers were still out there, waiting, patient as ever.

I adjusted my glasses, wiping a smudge off the lens with my sweater. The scarf scratched against my neck, but I couldn’t take it off. Not after this morning. The marks had changed, darker, hotter, like they were sinking deeper into my skin. Every time I touched them, they pulsed, slow and deliberate, with a heartbeat of their own.

Kim’s voice pulled me back. “It’s going.” She gripped the counter, eyes fixed on the algae jars. “The glow’s going away.”

She was right. The algae wasn’t glowing like yesterday. A dull greenish tint swirled sluggishly in the liquid. It looked sick, barely alive.

“We need to test it,” Kim said, grabbing her notebook. Her hands moved with urgency. “Now. Before we lose it completely.”

I wanted to argue. Testing the algae wasn’t our biggest problem right now, but the words stuck. I nodded. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

The mice were the first hurdle. They weren’t sick yet, and feeding them the algae raw wouldn’t prove anything. We had to make them sick first, see if the algae could heal them.

Jaime helped Kim prep the syringes while I set up the cages. Willy was first. He was old, his fur patchy, his movements slow. I cradled him in my hands, feeling the tremor of his tiny body.

“Sorry, buddy,” I whispered.

Kim slid the needle into the loose skin at the back of his neck. Willy squeaked, a sharp, weak sound, but he didn’t struggle.

The next mouse fought harder, scratching my thumb and leaving a thin red line. Jaime held it down, his jaw clenched. “Little fighter.”

When we finished, all three mice had been injected with a mild bacterial infection. Strong enough to weaken them, not strong enough to kill.

We waited.

At first, they seemed fine, wandering their cages, sniffing the food dishes. But after an hour, it started. Willy curled up in a corner, his breathing shallow. The other two followed, their tiny bodies trembling, their fur losing its shine.

Kim’s eyes darted between the cages and her notes. “It’s working.”

She was right. The mice were getting sicker. Their movements slowed. The curiosity faded from their eyes. It was horrible, but necessary.

When they were weak enough, we moved on to the algae.

The process of making the serum dragged. The algae stuck to everything. We had to filter it, dilute it, then run it through the centrifuge to isolate the active compounds. Kim worked in silence, her shoulders tight. I watched her measure the doses, the pale green liquid shimmering faintly in the syringe.

“Five percent,” she muttered. “Anything more could kill them.”

We started with Willy again. He barely moved, his small chest rising in uneven, labored spurts. I lifted him gently, keeping him steady as Kim injected the serum. He flinched but didn’t make a sound.

The other mice squirmed weakly, but they were too sick to fight. When we finished, all three curled up, looking more like clumps of fur than living creatures.

We waited again.

The storm hammered the windows, and the fluorescent lights buzzed above. I sat on a stool, eyes locked on Willy’s cage, silently willing him to move. The others were quiet too, breath shallow, bodies tense.

Then it happened.

Willy’s leg twitched. Just a small jerk, but enough to make me sit up.

“Did you see that?” My voice came out hoarse.

Kim leaned closer. “Look at his fur.”

It thickened, healthier than before. His breathing steadied. He stretched, tiny paws pressing against the cage floor.

The second mouse lifted its head, sniffing the air. Its eyes cleared, movements quickening. The third mouse stirred, its fur gleaming under the harsh lights.

“It’s a miracle,” Kim whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.

Jonathan, of course, couldn’t hold it in.

“This is it.” He stepped closer, eyes bright with excitement. “Do you know what this means? We could, “

“Jonathan.” My voice cut through, sharp. “This means nothing if we can’t get out of here.”

He blinked, as if the idea hadn’t crossed his mind. “We’ll escape. We have to. This is too important.”

I didn’t argue, but something felt wrong. Willy’s movements were too quick, too sharp. My thoughts drifted to Amanda, her pale skin, her whispered warnings about the light.

“Test them in sunlight,” I said.

Kim hesitated, then nodded. We moved the cages to the window and pulled back the blinds.

The first mouse screamed. A high-pitched, piercing sound. Its fur crumbled. Skin split. The body twisted, withered. Dead in seconds.

The second mouse shriveled to a husk.

I yanked Willy’s cage into the shade. He writhed, paws clawing at the air as his fur fell away. I reached in, trying to help, but it was useless. His death was slower. More painful.

Tears blurred my eyes as I set the cage down.

“They’re dead,” Kim whispered, her voice shaking.

I wiped my face with my sleeve. “Every single one.”

Jaime crossed his arms, staring at the wall. “That’s it. We’re at a dead end.”

Jonathan’s eyes flared. “No. We’re not done. We need more time. More tests.”

I snapped. “Jonathan, you saw what happened. This isn’t something we can figure out. It’s beyond us.”

“That’s fear talking,” he growled. “This is the discovery of a lifetime.”

“No. This is a curse.”

Jaime stepped in, calm but firm. “Pearl’s right. We’re dealing with things we don’t understand. After what we saw in the water, it’s not worth it.”

Kim nodded, voice unsteady. “We shouldn’t have taken it.”

Trevor leaned against the wall, cigarette in hand. “Great. So what’s the plan? Wait for the villagers to kill us?”

He took a drag, smoke curling around him. “For what it’s worth, I hid the boat in a cove. If they haven’t found it, it’s still there.”

Kim’s eyes lit up. “We could make it?”

“Maybe. If we’re fast.”

Jaime’s face hardened. “No more diving. We stick to the surface, get to the boat, and leave.”

Jonathan grabbed the algae jar. “We’re not leaving without this.”

The greed in his eyes made my skin crawl.

Jaime ignored him. “We need a distraction. I’ll do it.”

No one argued. No one had to.

Later, as I headed to my room, the storm pounded harder, rain hammering the roof like it wanted to break through. I shut the door behind me and dropped my bag on the floor. The scarf around my neck scratched at my skin, but I didn’t dare take it off. The marks underneath burned, hotter now, almost alive.

I sank onto the bed, hands trembling as I unzipped my bag. The algae jar lay hidden beneath my clothes. I’d grabbed it when no one was looking, its cold weight pressing against my palms. I didn’t trust Jonathan with it. Didn’t trust anyone. If we made it off this island, the algae was coming with me.

Storms stirred up memories. Watching the rain lash the window, I thought of my parents. They loved storms. Dad would say the ocean roared louder during them, like it was alive, like it was singing for us. Mom, always the optimist, called storms a fresh start, something that washed everything clean.

But this storm wasn’t cleansing. It felt furious, like it had waited years to let loose. Like it had been waiting for us to screw up.

The room felt wrong, like the storm had crept inside with me. Papers lay scattered, notes scribbled with words like mutation and parasitic. They stared back like accusations. But notes weren’t enough. They couldn’t explain what this algae was. What it wanted. And I knew it wanted something. I could feel it, watching, waiting for us to mess up even more.

I glanced at the jar on the bed, its glow faint through the shadows. It wasn’t the same vivid green as before. Now it looked sickly, like it was trying to die, to get back to where it belonged.

A floorboard creaked outside my door. Slow, deliberate footsteps. Not Kim or Jaime. They moved carefully. This was someone else. Someone angry.

My stomach knotted. I grabbed the jar, shoving it under the bed. My heartbeat thundered so loud, I swore the whole room could hear it.

The door burst open. Papers flew like startled birds. Jonathan stood in the doorway, dripping wet, eyes wild. He looked like the storm had spat him out.

“Where is it?” His voice cut through the air.

I stepped between him and the bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb.” His gaze landed on the faint green glow under the bed. His mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “There it is.”

Panic surged. “You can’t have it,” I said, arms spread wide. My hands shook, and I didn’t try to hide it.

Desperation twisted his face. “Do you know what this is worth? Millions, Pearl. You think I’m walking away from that?”

“You sold us out?” My voice cracked. “Behind our backs?”

“This isn’t just science. It’s survival. It’s power. And you’re in my way.”

“Jonathan, listen to yourself!” The words tumbled out. “This isn’t medicine. It’s alive. You’ve seen what it does.”

He grinned, manic. “Exactly! That’s why we can’t let it go. This could change everything, medicine, warfare, humanity!”

“Change? It’ll destroy us!”

He let out an empty laugh. “You’re pathetic. A scientist afraid of discovery.”

He lunged, shoving me aside. His hand shot under the bed, fingers curling around the jar.

“Let go!” he yelled, yanking hard.

“No!” I shouted, lunging forward as his grip tightened on the jar. My hands found it too, wrestling against his hold. Panic roared in my ears, every breath coming short and sharp. Desperation surged through me. I kicked him hard, aiming low. He let out a strangled sound and staggered back, his grip loosening just enough. I fell to the floor, the jar in my hands now. My fingers worked instinctively, twisting the lid open. Before I even realized it, I tipped the jar to my lips.

The algae hit my tongue, cold fire spreading through me. Bitter, salty, wrong. I choked as it burned down my throat, ice and heat flooding every vein. My body convulsed. The jar slipped from my hands.

Jonathan grabbed my shoulders, shaking me. “What did you do?”

I couldn’t answer. My muscles locked, cold searing through me. Darkness fringed my vision. Jonathan’s face blurred, rage twisting his features.

“You ruined everything!” His fingers bruised my arms.

I stumbled back, hitting the bed. “Jonathan, stop!” My voice broke.

He didn’t stop. He shoved me down, his weight crushing me. His hands tore at my clothes, frantic.

“You think you can take this from me?” His breath was hot, sour. Fabric ripped. I scratched at his face, his arms, but he didn’t flinch.

“Get off me!” I screamed, kicking, thrashing. His knee pinned my leg. His hands clawed at my collar.

“You don’t get to ruin me.”

Tears blurred my vision. My heart pounded, wild and erratic.

Then the temperature dropped. A sudden, brutal cold filled the room. The sound of shattering glass cracked through the air. I gasped as the storm burst in, icy wind clawing at my skin.

Jonathan’s grip loosened. His face went pale, his eyes flicking to the broken window. He took a shaky step back.

That’s when I saw it or him.

A figure stood in the frame. Water and shadow coiled together, shifting and fluid. The storm bent around him, as if the wind and rain obeyed his presence. His form glistened with a sheen that made my stomach twist. But those eyes, deep, endless voids, caught me. They pulled at something raw and instinctive, a silent demand I couldn’t fight.

Jonathan’s voice broke, a thin whisper. “What… is that?”

The figure glided forward, each movement deliberate. His attention didn’t waver. His gaze stayed locked on me. Tendrils of water curled toward Jonathan, wrapping around his arms and shoulders. He thrashed, but his strikes passed through like smoke.

“No… no! Let me go!”

The figure didn’t care. His focus was mine alone.

The tendrils tightened, water swirling into a suffocating bubble around Jonathan’s head. He choked, his body shuddering. The bubble vanished just long enough for a desperate gasp, then water surged into his mouth, forcing its way inside. His eyes bulged, veins straining beneath his skin. His body swelled.

A wet pop, and Jonathan exploded, flesh, blood, and bone splattered across the room. The warmth splashed against my skin, sticky and vile.

I couldn’t move. My chest heaved, each breath ragged. My vision blurred, tears mixing with the blood on my face.

The creature stepped toward me. The air grew colder, but heat pooled low in my stomach. My body stayed frozen, trapped between fear and something I didn’t want to name.

He crouched in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. The storm outside faded to a distant roar. It was just us now.

He reached out, his fingers, fluid and solid all at once, brushed my cheek. The touch was cold, but it burned through me. His fingers slid lower, following the line of my jaw, lingering at my throat where the marks throbbed. A shiver rippled through me, not from the cold, but from him.

His gaze softened, curiosity flickering in the depths. His thumb traced the edge of my lip, slow and deliberate. My breath caught. I wanted to pull away. I wanted to lean in. I stayed locked in place, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

He leaned closer, his face near enough that I could see the faint shimmer of light across his skin. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as if studying me, as if claiming me.

When he spoke, his voice wasn’t sound. It was a vibration inside me, low and resonant.

“You are mine.”

The words slid through me, dark and possessive. My body responded before my mind could catch up. Heat spread through my veins, overwhelming, dizzying. His fingers traced down my throat, brushing the edge of my collarbone. My skin prickled, every nerve on edge.

He leaned in further, his face just inches away. The storm’s cold breath slipped between us, but his presence filled the space, drowning out everything else. I felt his power, ancient and inescapable, curling around me like an unseen net.

His lips almost touched mine, so close that I could feel the chill radiating from him. My own lips parted, a tremor shaking through me. He didn’t close the distance. He held me there, suspended in the unbearable space between want and fear.

His eyes flickered, something unreadable passing through them. His fingers tightened against my throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to make my pulse quicken. The marks under my skin burned hotter, as if answering his touch.

Then, just as slowly, he drew back. His fingers trailed away, leaving my skin aching for contact. His gaze lingered on me, dark and possessive.

And then he melted away, his form dissolving into mist and storm. The chill faded with him, but the sensation of his touch stayed, seared into me.

I collapsed forward, my palms hitting the floor, blood sticky beneath my fingers. My body trembled, heart still racing with a mix of terror and something dangerously close to desire.

Once I steadied myself, I looked down. Blood soaked my hands, my clothes. The horror slammed into me. A scream tore free, raw and jagged. It echoed off the walls, twisting into something unrecognizable, something that didn’t sound like me anymore.

The room shook suddenly. A loud boom rattled the floor. I turned my head. Flames flickered under the door, casting orange light that twisted with the shadows. Jaime’s signal. The distraction we planned if everything went to hell.

My heart pounded. I forced myself up while the world spun around me. Smoke curled under the door. The heat pushed at my back. There wasn’t much time.

I grabbed my backpack from the corner. I didn’t care what I left behind. I just needed to get out. I stumbled to the door and yanked it open. Smoke rushed in, stinging my eyes, choking my lungs.

Downstairs, I saw them. Trevor, Jaime, and Kim. They stood at the bottom of the staircase, half-lit by the fire. Their eyes widened when they saw me. Blood-covered. Wild-eyed. A walking nightmare.

Trevor’s voice came out low, sharp. “Where’s Jonathan?” His eyes scanned me, taking in the stains and chunks of meat on my clothes.

“He’s… he’s gone.” The words slipped out, barely louder than a whisper. My mind spun, trying to process what happened. Trevor’s face twisted in horror, snapping me back to reality.

He grabbed my collar and yanked me close. “Gone? What did you do?”

“It wasn’t me!” My voice cracked. “Something else… in the room. It killed him.”

Jaime pulled Trevor back. His eyes darted to the blood on my face, then to the flames creeping closer. “We need to go. Now.”

Kim nodded while her voice shook. “If the villagers find us, “

“We’re dead,” she finished. Her eyes darted to the fire, to the growing smoke. “We have to move.”

Outside, voices shouted through the storm. I saw them through the cracked window. Tanya, Sebastian, and the villagers. They ran toward the inn.

Jaime pointed to the back. “The lab window. It’s our way out.”

We squeezed through the window, one by one. Mud sucked at my feet when I landed. Jaime’s hand grabbed my arm, steadying me.

“We’re close. Keep moving.”

We ran as the rain poured down on us and finally the boat appeared ahead, hidden between rocks. Hope flared in my chest. Just a little farther.