On The Fabrication Of Monsters

A short story

Opaque isn’t enough to describe the pitch-black room I am confined to. I open my eyes only to be met with pure nothingness.

I felt my sockets, and my eyes were still there. I am relieved they are. Still, my pupils don’t adjust to the darkness enveloping me.

The walls are cold and rough. I know it’s a stone of some kind. Crevices are sharp. I bled from the tip of my index finger the first day I checked for escape.

I counted the days for the first five, but who knows how long it’s been.

A whooshing sound and breeze are present. No scents are familiar. I don’t detect wind, rain, or snow. The air is lukewarm. It’s musty some days and nothing at all on others. I inhale deeply, and my lungs feel satiated for a moment. Days of scentless air counteract the stench of my feces and urine; no bucket, no toilet, just a ceramic floor.

Nourishment is hard to find. There are holes in the wall that let rodents in. The first week, I couldn’t stomach eating them. I look forward to biting into their bellies now. Blood gushing into my mouth and the crunch of bones.

I vomited after consuming the blood at first, but now I feel hydrated. The blood is the best part. Warm, smooth like a glass of fine wine.

What would a human taste like?

The pain in my mouth stopped. My teeth rotted away except for four jagged front ones. I couldn’t eat without them.

Wait, what’s that? Footsteps! I scramble across the floor, my bones cracking as I spider-crawl. I open my mouth to speak, but I am silent. My vocal cords are tight and unused.

I scratch on the hard stone surface. I don’t care if I rip my fingernails off one by one. I need to get out of this place!

The footsteps drew closer. Loud and heavy, a big human is coming. As I scratch and bang, I feel a new hole. It’s similar to the rodent-sized gaps that feed me. This one could fit human food. I mean, a human like me, I could escape.

I crawl towards the gap, but I hear big food before I try to leave. Yes. It is a big human, all for me.

I am so hungry.

As the screams echoed in the chamber, it was clear the creature had consumed its meal. Staring into the blackness from a viewing window, the Doctor and his Nurse admire their work.

“Great work, Doctor. I would call this a success.”

“No, not yet. It is too creature-like. There is no way for it to pass as human in society.”

“It is the first one to acclimate to blood as a primary source of nourishment.”

“That is a small win, my dear. Once I get it right, my creations will be undetectable in society. Besides occasionally feeding, of course. Shall we observe our newest subject in chamber 5,765, my dear?”

“5,765? I can’t believe we haven’t been caught yet, ha.”

“Let’s hope we perfect vampirism before we reach 10,000, my dear. I am sure the authorities will start to notice by then.”

The windows in the corridor show creatures scaling walls, lizard-like tongues flicking and tasting the air. A few creatures are unmoving, splayed on the ground, while others sit huddled in a corner, screaming until their throats bleed.

Only one room was silent. A young man with blackened eyes stared up at the ceiling. He blinked, revealing the reptilian nictitating membrane. A closed-mouth smile comes across his face as his captures briefly looks into the room. A chill went down the nurse’s spine. The creature smiles inhumanely wide to show his sharp fangs. He stands, never breaking eye contact with the invisible two-way mirror.

“He can’t see us, Doctor, right?”

“Of course not.”