Eric didn't remember falling asleep.
One second he was on the cold metal floor, still breathing too hard, still feeling her eyes on him. The next thing he knew, darkness.
He knew he was asleep, he had to be, but he could feel everything. He tried to get himself to wake up, but he felt stuck in his own body. Then all he felt was heat. Eveywhere.
Heavy, suffocating heat.
Like fire pulsing under his skin.
He stood in a hallway like the one in the lab, but the lights were red, and everything dripped. The walls… were pulsing. Breathing. As if the whole place was alive, waiting.
He looked down. His hands were covered in blood. Not glowing veins this time. Not a trick of light.
Blood, warm, thick, dark, and fresh.
He tried to wipe them on his shirt, but the more he scrubbed, the more it smeared, like the blood was coming from inside him. Like he was leaking.
He turned a corner and saw someone standing ahead of him.
A girl. Small. Pale. Familiar. One of the foster kids.
Eric stepped forward. "Hey..."
She turned. Eric bit back a shriek as he stared into her empty face. She had no eyes. Just black sockets, weeping something thick and tar-like. Her mouth opened, and he heard no scream, just whispers.
"You're one of us now."
He stumbled back. Falling over his feet as he turned and ran.
The hallway changed with every step. Doors appeared, slamming open. Inside them, more kids. Floating in tanks. Hooked to wires. Their eyes opened as he passed, all glowing. All dead.
He ran faster.
Faster.
Then suddenly, in the way fever dreams worked, he was in the woods. Night. Trees clawing the sky.
He was chasing something. He didn't know what.
Until it turned. This time, Eric screamed. What he was staring at, was himself.
A version of himself. Darker. Taller. His skin had gone almost black, like obsidian. His mouth full of fangs. Eyes burning violet. Clawed hands twitching with hunger.
The other-Eric smiled.
"You think you're still human?" it hissed. "You're food with memories."
Eric backed away. "No."
"You're pretending," it said. "But I'm the real you now."
He tried to run again, but his legs wouldn't move. They had turned to roots. Thick, black roots growing into the earth.
"Eric " The voice came from far away. Echoing through his thoughts and the images around him.
"Eric ? Can you hear me?" Soft hands grabbed him and pulled him down.
Voices in his ears. The ones from before, louder now.
"Give in."
"Feed."
"You'll feel better if you feed."
He opened his mouth to scream, eyes snapping open. Eric woke up with a gasp. Chest heaving. Cold sweat soaking through the back of his shirt. His hands, trembling. No blood.
But the hunger was still there. Fighting him. Berating him. Louder than before.
He looked up at the now familiar white ceiling of the lab. It had been a dream. He turned to look at the arms holding him. Elara was there, crouched beside him. Her face was barely five inches away from his. Watching him too closely.
He flinched away from her touch.
"Eric . You fell and..." she started.
"What did you do to me?" She froze.
"I didn't..."
"Bullshit." His voice was hoarse, but sharper than before. "You were here when I passed out. Just like the first time. At their house. We had dinner together and I woke up here. And then that dream..."
He pushed himself up, stumbling as he stood, nearly slipping on the sweat-slick floor. His body felt like it was made of fire and static and glass.
"I saw things in that dream," he hissed. "Things you couldn't know about. Things you shouldn't know about."
Elara stood too, slower. "Eric , you're not thinking straight--"
"You drugged me."
Her eyes widened, and that hesitation, that single half-second of stunned silence, was all he needed.
Eric backed away, red-hot fury tightening every muscle.
"You work for him. You live with him. You're his daughter. You knew exactly how this mutation would hit me, and you let me sleep. Let me see those things. Let it crawl into my head."
"I didn't drug you," she said, stepping forward. "Eric , please..."
He held up a hand. "Don't come near me."
"You were exhausted..."
"You think I don't know what a sedative feels like?" His hands were shaking, nails sharpening as he clenched his fists. "You let it happen. Maybe even triggered it."
Her jaw clenched. "You think I want this for you?"
"I don't know what you want," he snapped. "You could be running this whole damn thing for all I know."
"I've risked everything to help you."
"I didn't ask for your help." That landed like a slap in the air.
Elara stared at him for a long, quiet moment.
"I saved your life."
Eric laughed. Cold, sharp. "Then maybe you should've let me die."
Eric 's eyes locked on Elara's face. Her mouth was still moving, with no words coming out. Still trying to fix what couldn't be fixed.
He laughed again, but it came out warped, half-feral.
"You know what I think?" he said, voice low. Dangerous. "I think you're just like him."
Her expression twisted. "Don't..."
"You watched kids disappear and did nothing. You waited until it was me in the tank before you suddenly fucking cared? What's the matter, Elara Arthur? Guilt only works when it looks like something you want to save?"
"I didn't know they were..."
"You didn't care. Not until it was someone you liked. Someone you thought you could control. You think that makes you better than him?" His voice rose. "You're just a softer monster."
Elara's mouth fell open. That one hit. And Eric knew it. Part of him, deep, bitter, broken, wanted it to.
She stepped closer, her mouth set in a hard line. "Eric , I swear, I'm not your enemy-"
"Then what are you?" he snapped. "Another one of his failed projects? A handler? A liar with a good face?"
Elara's voice rose. "I'm the only one still trying to save you!"
Her jaw tensed as she continued. "I didn't put you in that tank."
"No. You just held the door open."
Elara stepped closer. Her fists clenched. "You think you're the only one who's hurting?"
"Pretty sure I've got a few more holes in me than you do. Do you want to know how it feels inside my head right Now? The voices? The urges? The total sense of loss?"
"I've lost people too, Eric ," she snapped. "I've tried to stop him. But I'm not some superpowered lab freak who can punch his way through a door."
His breath caught but she didn't stop. "You want to talk about guilt? I live in that house. I eat with him. I say goodnight to him knowing he's got blood on his hands. I wake up every day wondering if I could've saved one more person. One more you. So don't you dare look at me like I'm the villain when I'm the only one standing between you and becoming something you'll regret."
Eric wanted to speak. To snap back, to vent. But that's when it hit him.
A rush. A surge. Like something twisting in his skull, unlocking. All this time,he had almost forgotten that he was still going through his transformation.
He felt the pain zoom through his nervous system in a flash. His pupils blew wide. His breath hitched. The room sharpened into jagged clarity.
He could smell her.
Not perfume. Not sweat. Her.
Her blood.
It ran hot beneath her skin, warm, fast, bright, full of life. He could see it now: the faint blue tracings of her veins under her neck, the soft throb of her pulse. Her heart stuttered once, he heard it. Like a drumbeat, too close.
His vision flashed red for a second.
And he panicked. Pure, undiluted terror.
"No…" he whispered.
His hands twitched. His teeth ached. The hunger returned like a wave crashing over bone.
Elara stepped forward, concern washing away her fury. "Eric ?"
He backed away. "Don't come near me."
"Eric ..."
"I see you," he choked. "I see everything."
It hit him all at once.
Her scent. Her pulse. Her heat.
Her blood.
It filled his head, thick like smoke. The whispers returned, slithering behind his eyes.
"Take her."
"You need her."
"She's just meat."
He staggered back a step, hand over his mouth.
Elara moved toward him. "Eric ..."
"Don't." His growl was deep and dark sending cold shivers down Elara's back
She froze.
"I'm seeing things I'm not supposed to see. Hearing things I can't explain. I can smell your heartbeat."
He looked up at her, something wild in his eyes. "I want to rip you open and I don't know why."
Tears welled in his eyes, unspoken shame rising in his throat.
"I'm not supposed to be this. I was gonna get adopted. Go to school. Get out."
Elara's voice broke. "You still can..."
"No!" he shouted. "No, I can't. That version of me is dead. He died in a glass tank your father created!!"
He clutched his head, stumbling back.
"I'm gonna hurt you...I can't..."
" You just need to calm down" Elara said and reached out to touch him.
Eric turned and ran. Leaving her behind. Saving her. From himself. He ran with the sinking feeling that he would be running like this for the rest of his life.