Olento Research Series Boxed Set: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller

by Sarah Noffke

  - Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File

  A hypnic jerk yanked Hugo out of his sleep. He’d had the involuntary twitches often when falling off to sleep and they were always preceded by one thing. Knowing that he only had a few minutes, he swung his legs over the side of the modest bed and pulled on his boots.

  Stay here, he said to the malamute that startled from his sudden movements. Stay away from me, he said, looking at the animal deep in the eyes.

  Yes, okay, the dog answered back in Hugo’s head, but his eyes looked remorseful, like staying behind was the last thing he wanted to do.

  I’ll be back at sunrise, Hugo said, and exited the one-room cabin, shutting his best friend, Thomas inside.

  The half-moon hung high in the Oklahoma sky, which was wide with bright stars since no streetlights polluted the area. Something in Hugo made him halt when all he wanted was to run, sprint forward through the fields and straight into the forest by the stream. The chickens were asleep in their shed, well protected from the coyotes that roamed the prairies, thanks to the fencing he’d just installed. However, the chickens weren’t safe from him, or rather, what he was about to become. Hugo’s nostrils widened as the scent of feathers and meat turned a key inside of him. The worst part was that he’d spoken to the chickens, heard their delight about the new space. What would they say in his mind when he feasted on them?

  “No!” he yelled to the clear, raw night. “No!” And Hugo set off at once, taking control before he knew that option was lost to him. If he just got far enough away—if he just got to the other side of the stream before the change happened—then his home would be safe.

  It wasn’t that he hated the wolf. Actually, he respected it and they spoke often, always relating in strange, but meaningful ways. Hugo understood the wolf was purely operating on instinct, the way the animals on his farm had. However, the farm animals didn’t own an unfair power that could murder animal and man alike. And even the coyotes could be stopped, or measures put into place to prevent their destructions. But the wolf, it was more powerful than Hugo or anything he’d ever encountered. He was powerless to the beast, and understanding it only made his struggle more real.

  The surface of the stream, glistening from the filtered moonlight overhead, was just in view when the wolf broke free. Hugo didn’t stop or even slow as the claws punctured his fingers, sliding out to their full length. His clothes always stayed in place, not too displaced by the fibers that slipped through the pores of his hands and arms. But the fangs—when they sank down an inch out of his mouth he always lost momentary control, thinking he’d become sick with disgust. To feel the sharp teeth press against each other inside his mouth was the most unnatural part of the transformation.

  The werewolf, fresh to this world since the last change and with no memory of what Hugo had seen, hunched down low and cried its excitement to the night in one giant howl. It was free. It was in its element, the woods. And it was hungry. The werewolf crouched, smelling the air as it did, its sharp eyes seeing clear through the dark forest. It grew silent for a moment, only its quick panting to be heard. Hugo knew it was sensing, deciding in which direction the best prospects lay. And although he sometimes heard the wolf in his head, he didn’t know exactly how the animal thought. Its instincts and impulses were still something Hugo was learning. They were connected and yet divided. There were things Hugo couldn’t see about the wolf, about like how the wolf seemed to go blind when not changed. It never had much a sense or care for Hugo’s world.

  And Hugo was surprised when the wolf launched forward and jumped, easily clearing the fifteen-foot stream. Running with his shoulders down, he sped through the woods, navigating around trees and moving so his vision blurred, but the wolf knew where it was going. The sight before Hugo only came into view when the werewolf dived, just as a deer turned its head over its shoulder.

  Before anything registered completely for Hugo or the deer, the wolf had its teeth sunk deep into the animal’s neck, its body forcing it to the ground. There the werewolf kept its mouth sunk into the blood-drenched neck of the deer, its claws pressed deep into the animal, forcing it into submission. Soon the fear response made the deer stop fighting, and then the werewolf unhinged its jaw and dove straight back in for the kill, ripping through veins and flesh. It was the strangest experience Hugo had ever had, being both violently repulsed by his own actions and yet satisfied in a way he’d never known before.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Although brain wave monitoring has proven that the subjects are displaying tendencies toward Dream Travelers, they haven’t shown any signs of full conversion. No psychic or super powers have been displayed, as well.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  Sweat slipped down Orion’s forehead and splattered on the dusty wood floor. The padlock was in place and the key well hidden, but that didn’t mean he was ready for what was about to happen next. How could he ever be ready for the things the wolf did when unleashed inside of him? The animal would take over, change him and exhaust his already taxed mind with desires he couldn’t satisfy. The werewolf wanted out of the apartment. So badly did that monster want to prowl the streets. It would give up after an hour of two and tear through the half refrigerator in the corner and the modest contents of the pantry. Orion couldn’t even fathom that in his old life, the one almost better than this one, he’d been a vegetarian. He had found the texture of meat unpleasant, but now that had dramatically changed. Every few days, when he’d breathed through the anxiety sufficiently, he exited his room and spent the money that was running out on cheap cuts of meat, usually the stuff on the discount racks that was about to go bad. It didn’t taste good to him, but it made the wolf happy, which was a small victory.

  Tonight what would the werewolf do? It had threatened in his mind to jump from the third-story window. He knew that in werewolf form he could probably land safely on the awning or scale to the roof. Dying from the fall wasn’t what scared Orion. It was what the werewolf would do if free to roam on the streets. He’d heard the passing thoughts of the wolf. It didn’t just want meat, it longed to hunt, to tear into flesh that still had a beating pulse. Orion cringed inside, releasing a small weeping sound at the thought of murdering someone. He had to stop the wolf. If he didn’t then Mrs. Wilson would probably grow too suspicious and call the authorities. His chances with her were running out. His chances in general were diddling.

  Orion stood from the sofa bed, thinking he might pass out. Inside the wolf was panting, longing for what would happen in the next few minutes. It knew it was about to be freed, like a dog seeing the leash after a long day of being cooped up. However, the wolf only sensed freedom approaching. It still didn’t have its eyes and ears in the present. The horrible animal didn’t know that Orion would rather die than to allow the wolf to ruin lives. Even Orion’s own preservation wasn’t enough of a concern anymore. He’d never had a life worth caring much about. Actually his existence was a quiet suffering, prolonged by adequate healthcare and a system that wouldn’t give up on him. Now he didn’t have any of that though.

  The counter bar, which served as both a kitchen prep area and the entertainment center, held an odd assortment of items. A small black-and-white TV sat on the far end and was currently playing a rerun of Andy Griffith. Littering the middle were some condiments, a cutting board, paper towels, plastic forks, and a bag of week-old bread. On the far end was a set of knives, magnetically held to a strip on the wall. It had been the one indulgence Orion had splurged on, knowing plastic cutlery wasn’t going to do the job for his daily meat consumption.

  Flinching as he did, he pulled the butcher’s knife off the wall. It came away with a soft chirping sound that reminded him of a sparrow. He’d always liked sparrows; they were small and unassuming. Kind of the wallflower of the bird world. Orion wished he was one now. You’re stalling, he told himself. And it was true. The wolf would be here at any moment. He couldn’t delay.

  The knife v
ibrated in his hand, looking like it might fly loose, as if he was holding it on a turbulent airplane. Still he steadied himself by pinning his hand palm down on the cutting board sitting in the middle of the shelf.

  I can do this. I have to. I need to do this, he repeated again and again in his head. A tear poked to the surface of one eye and then spilled down, landing on his arm. He looked at it with blurry vision to see the sight that had grown too familiar. The pores of his skin widened and then the tiny, sharp hairs started to rise to the surface. “No,” Orion said in a hush and before he could give it another moment of thought he brought the cleaver straight down, severing his fingers at the knuckles. The pain tore him off his feet and he tumbled over, losing the knife, which clattered to the ground beside him. With desperate inhales he clutched his bleeding hand to his chest. He wouldn’t have the strength to sever the other hand, but the good news was the pain was blinding him, like a burn wrapping his hand in unending fire. Orion wanted, needed, to cry out, but he kept his mouth pinned shut. You’ve been weak your whole life, in this moment be strong. We are that much closer to ending the beast, he told himself.

  He opened eyes spilling with tears to see the hairs now lining his arms. The claws had pierced through his other hand, but he hadn’t felt any of the change because his pain was too great. But he’d been successful at stopping one change, he thought, holding his bleeding hand to his chest, cradling it like one would a baby. And then Orion won against the beast and fell into a sleep that one only receives after a great sacrifice.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Six months after the twelve men were abducted, the first werewolf sighting was reported in San Diego, California.”

  - Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File

  “This case has brought more interesting subjects to my lab than ever before,” Aiden said, studying the computer readout report.

  “You’re welcome,” Adelaide said in a dead voice. “I bring the freaks.”

  “Seriously, though,” Aiden said, scanning the report and then pushing his black-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Super strength, X-ray vision, and the ability to pause time. I’ve never seen powers like this before.”

  Adelaide closed her eyes for a long moment. The bright lights of Aiden’s lab weren’t doing any favor to her eyes, which were the victims of long bouts of insomnia. As a Dream Traveler she should be able to close her eyes and travel off with her consciousness to any place she desired. However, that took focus and at night when everything turned silent, she found her thoughts distracted. Of course she was always thinking about the case, but then there were the specifics of the case, like what would she do next? Who would she go after? How to catch Mika? And where was Connor?

  “Well, don’t forget that our lone wolf has the same power as you,” Rox said from her usual place perched up on a workstation. She really detested chairs, probably because no one could see her panties if she wasn’t seated up high.

  “Yes, Connor and I both share psychometry, but I’ll admit that his is more powerful. He can see an item’s entire history, whereas I usually only get a brief glance,” Aiden said, musing. “It must be the pairing of the wolf with the Dream Traveler conversion that creates the more powerful gift. Or it’s the actual conversion. I’ve actually only converted one Middling and I’m unsure how her skill manifested afterwards.”

  “Why?” Rox said, her eyes skipping to Zephyr’s before going back to Aiden’s.

  “She’s dead and it’s none of your business, FBI Slut,” Adelaide said. No one needed to know about that project. Aiden should have kept his mouth shut. However, Ren had warned her that the head scientist talked too much, being too proud of his accomplishments. It’s how Drake had been able to steal the Institute’s research.

  “She, huh?” Rox said, her mind working. “So you converted a Middling to Dream Traveler in this lab, is that right?”

  “Yes, and we might elect you to be the first Dream Traveler converted to a Middling. Why don’t you offer your monkey brain up for science?” Adelaide said to her.

  “I think she’s hiding something,” Rox said, elbowing Zephyr in the ribs. He merely smiled before turning his attention fully on the head scientist.

  “Are you any closer to a solution?” he asked Aiden.

  “If by solution, you mean taking the wolf out of you three,” he said, gesturing to Kaleb, Rio, and Zephyr, who were leaning against a workbench, “no, at the present I’m stumped.”

  “Why would we want to get rid of the wolf?” Rio said, his voice loud. He always spoke too loud, Adelaide had observed. She was going to take him to Dr. Parker to have his ears examined. It was best if the Institute and all its pesky residents remained as quiet as possible. When the three men had changed into werewolves, Rio sat in a corner howling most of the night. It was ridiculously annoying. And the three didn’t fight, which was also incredibly disappointing. Apparently, Zephyr had outlawed the whole idea.

  “We’re actually thinking of taking the man out of you so you’re just the dog we know you’re destined to be,” Adelaide said to Rio.

  “I’m just saying, I’m the strongest human alive. Why would I want to lose that?” Rio said.

  “That’s your Dream Traveler gift though,” Aiden corrected. “I’m not certain, but I think I should be able to remove the wolf DNA, while keeping your Dream Traveler status.”

  “Didn’t you just say our strong gifts might be because of the wolf?” Kaleb asked.

  “Yes, that’s true, but they might also be a part of being converted. This is all brand new technology and unfortunately I’m going to need—excuse the term, since I dislike it—but I’m going to need a guinea pig to test all this,” Aiden said.

  “You need one of the werewolves to determine what? Whether you can take the wolf out of the man?” Zephyr said, standing up tall, gaining a sturdy look from Rox.

  “Yes, and whether that’s the key to the strong ability or if by keeping the Dream Traveler part intact that we save the gift,” Aiden said.

  “This technology did come out of your lab. CRISPR was your genetic invention. If you gave Olento the know-how to put wolf DNA into a man, can’t you easily take it out?” Adelaide said.

  “Yes, but multiple genetic mutations could have assorted effects. That’s why I’m saying I’m going to need a volunteer. There is only so much hypothesizing I can do when we’re in this new territory,” Aiden said.

  “I guess I could do it,” Kaleb offered. He often bounced back and forth between looking happy and then also lost. The death of his father wasn’t something he could shake easily, although Adelaide guessed he was trying to submerge himself in this world in order to do that. “I hate the wolf and it sounds like Rio has grown attached to it. And we know we can’t lose our alpha wolf yet, so it’s got to be me,” he finished with a shrug that was soon punctuated by a confident nod.

  “No, not you, Runt,” Adelaide said, crossing her arms. “We can’t afford to lose your skill. It’s too valuable and you’re now the property of the strategic department.” Kaleb was the first ever time stopper in the history of Dream Travelers. Whatever Olento Research had done, they’d embarked on new territory that was going to revolutionize the way the Lucidites handled problems. Ren would have been pleased by such a prospect, although he would have pretended to be bored and told everyone to go fuck themselves. Kaleb’s ability was going to prove extremely useful for intervening in the world’s affairs to create better futures. However, the little mutt needed some discipline and training, which unfortunately fell under Adelaide’s jurisdiction.

  “Well, I don’t want to volunteer,” Rio said.

  “And here your case file said you were a team player,” Adelaide said. “But don’t worry. I need you in the field with Captain Dog Boy and Hooker Shoes.”

  “Then we will just have to wait until you rescue more of the pack,” Aiden said, clapping his hands together eagerly. And then his eyes flicked up. “And to what do I owe the honor of my wife’s lovely presence
?” he said to the entrance.

  Adelaide turned to find the girl with long blonde hair and a pursed expression scanning the room. Roya was the opposite of her husband; she didn’t do pretenses or niceties. “Adelaide, I need to see you,” Roya said when her green eyes located her.

  “I believe you meant to phrase that into a request. Like, ‘May I please have the pleasure of your attention, Agent Lewis?’” Adelaide said. “Is that what you forgot to say, airhead?”

  “Oh, I guess you don’t want my newest report pertaining to your case,” Roya said and then turned and headed for the hallway.

  Adelaide spun to face Aiden. “Your wife is a real bitch. I might bloody kill her when she’s no longer of use to me.”

  “I’m sure you two lovely ladies will work out your differences,” Aiden said with a daft laugh.

  Roya waited in the hallway, knowing Adelaide would be along in only a few seconds. This was the same game her father, Ren Lewis, loved to play with Roya when he was alive. “I have something you want, come and follow me if you want it,” he’d often say. It was such a show of theatrics and not as impressive as he tried to make it out to be, but it was effective nonetheless. Roya hadn’t liked nor disliked Ren. He wasn’t a man that you could easily assign such a category to. Ren was too powerful, too cunning, and too brilliant and the problem was he knew it. And Adelaide had inherited just about everything about her father. Which meant she’d go on to do great things and piss off a lot of people in the process.

  “Oh, bravo, you got me to play your little game,” Adelaide said, coming around the corner and stopping a few feet from Roya. “I bet you feel all good about yourself. Maybe you won’t have to continuously breed to build up that self-confidence now.”

  “And hopefully you won’t breed again because we all know that redheads are inferior and we don’t need those bad genetics spread around,” Roya said, matching Adelaide’s stance, arms crossed, chest held high.