Olento Research Series Boxed Set: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller

by Sarah Noffke

  “Oh fuck! You’re about to change into a werewolf! Brilliant-bloody-timing,” she said, pointing at the man who had his arms crossed, making him appear smaller than he was.

  “Yeah,” he breathed out with a cough.

  “It’s a new moon though,” Adelaide said, having memorized the lunar calendar.

  “Doesn’t matter. We change every week, no matter what. Every seven days,” he said, and it sounded like it was becoming hard for him to breathe.

  “So about like a menstrual cycle,” Rox said with a laugh. “On a regular schedule you can’t control your emotions or what you want to eat and your body goes out of control.”

  “Come on, Zeppy,” Adelaide said, waving him to follow her. “I’ve had rooms built for you beasts for when you changed into werewolves. You can’t get out and we all stay safe.”

  “Just make sure it’s stocked with meat,” Zephyr said, starting to shiver.

  “Can’t do. Thing is, as of a few months ago, the Lucidite Institute only serves vegetarians meals since this is more conducive for dream traveling,” Adelaide said with a cruel laugh.

  “Oh, I cannot wait to see this,” Rox said.

  “You’ll watch from the viewing room. There’s no way I’m letting you in that room to play fetch with Rover,” Adelaide said, already expecting that Rox thought she was tough enough with her skin resistance to hang with a werewolf.

  “Fine. Fine,” Rox said. “But only because you dared to call the puppy dog Rover and that’s fucking hilarious.”

  Adelaide pressed the button for the exit to the strategic department, her eyes on Zephyr, whom she needed to get to the safe room pronto. Luckily it was straight down the hall. “Oh, I have plenty more doggie jokes lined up, so don’t worry. I’ll keep it fresh.”

  “You gals are sure supportive. Thanks,” Zephyr said, his voice more like a growl now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “All humans are considered valuable. Sparing a life at the cost of others is not something the Lucidites take lightly, although it is sometimes necessary.”

  - Lucidite Employee Manual

  With a large inhale Connor slid his thumb across his nostrils. The gesture brought a host of old memories. Not memories. Nightmares, mostly. The late nights. The binging. The girls. The white powder. The drugs that ruined his life. Not that his life had ever been that great before cocaine and alcohol barged into it and stole away his money and freedom. He’d dragged himself to the doors of the drug rehabilitation center the morning that he awoke and realized he was homeless and broke. In one night he lost it all. Gave it all away to a drug dealer for a bag of shit that wasn’t even pure cocaine. But thirty pounds down from his normal weight and hardly able to complete a sentence, he couldn’t argue against the dealer who would probably break his other fingers if he made accusations. And his “friends” were fed up with his drugs and the junk-type people he brought through the commune. It was the morning he woke up on the steps of the building he used to call home that he decided he’d sunk low enough. Dragging himself to rehab was the only thing he’d ever been proud of, and still it was an act that also marked his greatest mistake.

  Connor didn’t miss the drugs. Not because of rehab, although that helped. It gave him the skill to resist that which didn’t serve him. He’d learned all about neural networks and how addiction works. How it rewires someone’s brain until they just keep craving that response connected to the drugs. When he thought back, there weren’t any good times when the drugs were around. It had been a mirage that he realized was all wrong. Initially the drugs were a part of celebrations for already good times. They weren’t the fun. They were the end of the fun usually. Later the drugs became the overwhelming focus to his life. That’s how someone loses it all. They become focused on only one thing. Drugs. Work. Sex. It didn’t really matter what it was.

  Connor also didn’t miss the drugs because of the rush the change created in him. When he became the werewolf it was the exact same feeling the drugs gave him. It was almost like the scientist had tapped into the same neural networks connected to cocaine. The high. The racing heart. The cravings. It was because of his time spent with cocaine that he usually recognized when the werewolf change was minutes away, and sometimes because of that he invited the change.

  As his eyes shifted from their usual turquoise green to a glowing neon, he tore them away from the corner where his last two meals resided. The lone wolf had gone a whole day without eating. The beast inside him would be hungry though. Tonight he’d have to battle with the wolf. Try and protect his rations. Sparring with the beast within him was always his downfall inside of his locked cell, not that he needed any more disadvantages.

  The change didn’t hurt as much anymore. Maybe he was numb from hunger. But to Connor it felt more like a burgeoning fern unfurling with time lapse photography. The unfolding didn’t hurt the fern, although it happened within seconds to the watcher’s eyes.

  With a deliberate focus, he shut his eyes, wishing he could sleep during the change. The beast always wore him out and he was already so depleted. How much longer could he go stuck in this cell?

  Sleep wasn’t even a possibility for Connor. Outside his cell wall the dark skies had awoken and with them they had rattled the beast. It awoke with a growl, hungry and vicious. His eyes sprang open, Connor the observer behind the wolf’s control. He watched as the beast crawled off the bed, crouching down low, furred hands pinned on the ground. How could he be something so hideous? How had they changed him so that hair grew from the tops of his hands, claws hung from his fingers, his teeth enlarged, his ears and nose turned pointy? The only relief was his body remained the same size, although the power he harnessed was extremely noticeable.

  Behind the veil of the wolf’s control he watched as the beast sniffed the cell, his nose down low to the grimy ground. The beast seemed as though it had been asleep during the many days between changes. It was always a reentry into this world for the werewolf. And Connor had to watch powerlessly as the animal took in the same environment, like it forgot that they were both imprisoned in the four-walled hell. His nose startled with a satisfactory sensation. The beast spun around, kneeling back, as though about to pounce.

  No! Connor thought, powerless in his own head.

  The beast ignored him and lunged forward, tearing into the last two meals he had left.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Lives must sometimes be sacrificed in order to achieve greatness.”

  - Olento Research Employee Manual

  “This is unacceptable!” Mika yelled so loudly the bunnies darted to the back of their cages.

  “I don’t disagree, sir,” Grant said, his hat tucked under his arm.

  “You had him! Cornered, it sounds like!” Mika yelled, not caring that scientists, checking their subjects’ cages, were pretending not to be listening.

  “Yes, and we thought we could find him in the parking garage, but it appears he found a way to escape there. We searched everywhere, I assure you, sir,” Grant said.

  Mika’s smoldering eyes scanned the open lab, not really taking in the various cages holding animals in different stages of experimentation. Finally when they were resting on the drain beside his feet, where so much of the lab was washed away to each day, he pulled up his chin, his eyes calm once more. “Well, despite your incompetence, we’ve still had a small victory here. We know he’s homeless. On the run. And alone. Now I’ll just have to draw him out. A hungry wolf won’t be able to refuse a feast,” Mika said, before marching to the exit.

  Chapter Twenty

  “There is no evil we will not fight. There is no battle we will turn away from, if it means preserving the integrity of our world.”

  - Lucidite Employee Manual

  “So that was a bit anticlimactic,” Rox said, as the threesome strode through the hallways of the Institute. Blue carpet, which shimmered as the light caught it, ran under their feet. The walls of the corridors were brushed stainless steel and doors with blu
e buttons lined the upcoming stretch.

  “Yeah, he just sat there grunting and howling,” Adelaide said from her place on the other side of Zephyr, whom she eyed quizzically. His breaths were starting to grow more even, the pulse in his neck not beating as wildly. She was pretty sure he hadn’t slept at all during the night, although she and Rox had taken turns dream traveling to ensure they’d be ready for the lab in Los Angeles. Zephyr would have to sleep on the way there. Or he could wither away from exhaustion, she didn’t much care. One dog down, eleven to go.

  “It’s because I was starving. And oh, I’m sorry that my weird mutation wasn’t more entertaining for you ladies who are still purely human,” Zephyr said, pushing the front of his hair off his forehead and corralling it into place.

  “I know, I’m sorry too. But next time, I’ll leave a bundle of carrots for you to chew on,” Adelaide said.

  “And I could throw a ball around for him to fetch, if you’ll let me in there, Freckles,” Rox said to Adelaide, angling her head around Zephyr.

  Adelaide narrowed her eyes at the girl who had changed into a lavender tank top. It wasn’t the most appropriate thing to wear on a reconnaissance mission, but Adelaide was certain “appropriate” was still a word that Rox was struggling to understand.

  “Call me Freckles again and I’ll find a way to disconnect your superpower of resistance and then I’ll stick you in there with wolf-boy,” Adelaide said.

  “No way. It’s impossible to take away a Dream Traveler’s gift,” Rox said, keeping stride with the three, all of them shoulder to shoulder.

  “You do realize that we’re taking a werewolf for a walk right now? Nothing is impossible, especially for the Lucidites. And yes, we do have the power to strip a Dream Traveler of their gifts in our catalog. We confiscated it from an evil society,” Adelaide said, hating that she was having to look up at Rox and then Zephyr. It made them seem powerful and her seem like the little girl, tagging along.

  “That’s your superpower? You’re resistant? Then that’s how you made the jump, isn’t? Off the top of the building?” Zephyr said to Rox, remembering when she jumped down from the rooftop. “So your bones, they don’t break?”

  “With enough force anything will break, but yeah, they’re super resilient. And my skin too,” Rox said, winking at Zephyr, her eyes lingering on his too long before darting to Adelaide. “I want to go in the safe room with Zephyr next time and then we could spar or do something semi cooler than watching him drool on himself,” Rox said.

  “Well, I’m still in charge here according to Lucidite Lore so—”

  “That’s not a real thing,” Rox said, cutting Adelaide off, but not sounding sure.

  “Well, you’re merely assisting on this case. I’m in charge, so what I say goes in the Institute and in the field.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Adelaide said, interrupting Rox’s rebuttable. “I’m a Lucidite and the two of you are a bunch of worthless gits who will get yourself killed in this place if I don’t take charge. You’re not in the FBI anymore. We do real things and have real laws, ones that if you break then you’re going to fuck stuff up,” Adelaide said. She stopped at the entrance to the dry dock, remembering a long time ago when she had to enter the underwater facility that way. “Now get on the submarine, like the lowly halfwits that you are.”

  The two stared at Adelaide before exchanging a look. Zephyr’s was one of complacency. He was out of his element and knew it, Adelaide assumed. This wasn’t a man who was going to argue when he knew he was in the company of superior knowledge. He was used to rank. Rox’s expression, however, was one of brooding contempt. Still, she turned after a moment and headed for the windowed door that hung in reflections from the glowing blue lights pouring through from the other side.

  “And Rox?” Adelaide called at her back, unable to fathom how or why anyone would wear three-inch heels when there was a plethora of better shoe options. She would need to find the room the Lucidites had assigned to Rox while at the Institute and burn all her clothes. Adelaide’s only other option would be to poke out her eyes and therefore arson seemed like the better approach.

  The girl turned and regarded her over her pursed lips.

  “Try and keep your hands off of our subject. I see you longing to pat his head, but our mission is to protect him. That is all. Got it?” Adelaide said in a voice that almost sounded like her father’s. Maybe it was her imagination. She hoped not.

  “I’ll be a good girl, promise,” Rox said, sliding her hand into the back pocket of her jeans like that was at all comfortable and striding forward again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Religion has no place at Olento Research Corp.”

  - Olento Research Employee Manual

  Clawed feet rapped rhythmically against the concrete floors. Again and again the werewolf stalked from one end of the bars to the far wall and back. Maybe in the dark, Connor’s form resembled that of a man’s, but he didn’t move like one. With his shoulders rounded and his chin out, he sensed he gave off the image of a wolf pacing, waiting to be let out of its prison. The beast didn’t get that it was trapped for good and so again and again it gazed past the bars, its eyes scanning the lab area on the other side. Connor felt the desperation in the wolf as if it was his own. And maybe it was his own, but he was separating it out because it so pronouncedly belonged to the wolf at present. But he was the wolf and the wolf was him and there was no way of pulling them apart. If he lived then he’d have to accept the beast inside of him. He’d have to come to terms with who he’d become. He’d have to tame the wolf or allow it to make him wild. But one thing was certain, a werewolf and a man couldn’t exist successfully without becoming one at some point. The divide would make a man go crazy. It would turn the wolf into a rabid beast.

  However, Connor wasn’t going to escape. He wasn’t going to have a chance to come to terms with who he was. If he was certain of one thing it was that he’d die alone in his cell. And one day they’d find the bones of a man, not realizing that the beast inside of his body was actually what killed him.

  The morning sun rimmed the dark window in the cell across the way. Without his consent the wolf stole Connor’s mouth, angling his chin up to the ceiling. And then a howl, one so guttural and deep, echoed out of his throat. Again, the beast let out its plea to the dying night. His last howl was more of a croak of loss as the sunlight sparkled through the window and across the lab floor. Connor almost felt a tinge of sadness for the wolf inside him. The one that wanted to run free. To hunt. To be alive. However, that same creature had torn through all of Connor’s food twelve hours ago and then proceeded to pace the entire night. And now the man inside the beast was exhausted.

  First he stumbled, catching himself on the bars. And then he noticed the sharp hairs on his skin retract until his hands were smooth once again. The wolf had gone, but he’d taken with him any remaining spirit that Connor had left. He made for his bed, but his legs buckled on the second step and he caught the ground with his hands. The bars behind him blurred just before he submitted to defeat and laid his head on the cold concrete. His consciousness could no longer hold on to reality anymore. The wolf had stolen his last bit of remaining life, but at least he’d die a man.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “We recognize and value the beliefs of all people.”

  - Lucidite Employee Manual

  “So who was she?” Rox said from her seat next to Zephyr on the submarine. The water of the Pacific cast a blue light on her face, making her look monochromatic for once.

  “Oh good, I can tell this is going to be a fun ride,” Zephyr said, throwing his head back to look at the white metal ceiling. He didn’t have to ask who Rox was referring to. On the last submarine trip, he pieced together everything she’d seen before she’d approached him. Rox had spied him spying on Stephanie. She’d probably watched him at his parents’ house and while at work.

  “Things are always fun when I’m around,”
Rox said, her eyes on the round window at her bent knees, but her shoulders turned toward Zephyr.

  “Can we not talk right now?” he said, wishing he’d had a moment to be alone, but it had been one thing after another since he entered this strange new world. And the change last night had left him exhausted, both mentally and physically. Right then he wished he could close his eyes and dream travel to a far-off desert island. It had been a recurring place he took his consciousness, before he realized that he was actually doing it due to his new race and powers.

  “How do you not have a million questions? You’ve just learned that you’ve been turned into a Dream Traveler and a werewolf, that you have a psychic ability, and that a secret organization is going to help you,” Rox said.

  “I’m processing,” Zephyr said.

  “That makes sense. You must be a little overwhelmed right now,” Rox said as a school of fish swam past the submarine window, headed the opposite direction.

  “I’m not,” he said. The truth was he was deferring to the higher ranking organization, the Lucidites. That’s what a smart leader did. Acting foolishly would be taking charge prematurely or arguing with the sassy women. No, the trailblazer took a backseat while undergoing orientation so they could properly lead when the time came. If his military training taught him anything, it was that the brutes led with muscles and the real men led with their minds.

  “You’re not what?” she said, a smile in her voice.

  “Look, I don’t get overwhelmed. I’ve been trained for battle and a whole artillery of shit that you wouldn’t understand. I’m simply processing. I’ll let you, or that Adelaide girl, know if I have questions,” he said. Zephyr never really cared for the perky kind of girls. The ones like Rox who wore too much makeup and appeared entitled. His career hadn’t really afforded him the time or inclination to figure out what his type was though. Most women he dated weren’t strong enough for him. He didn’t want someone he had to hold up, but wasn’t that what people in relationships did? That must have been why he was so bad at them. Stephanie always complained that Zephyr was too distant, too withholding. She’d complained about many things that he didn’t do.