Monster

Chapter 13

Ronan followed the guard through the maze of corridors, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. His mind raced, piecing together a plan. These bastards thought they could dangle his son in front of him like a puppet on strings. Pathetic. They had no idea what kind of monster they were dealing with.

The guard stopped in front of a metal door, swiping a keycard and pushing it open. Ronan stepped inside, and his eyes locked onto the small figure sitting on a cot in the corner of the sterile, dimly lit room. Noah looked up, his dark eyes sharp and unafraid. The kid didn't look scared—just alert, like he was waiting for instructions.

Ronan's lips twitched into a hint of a smile. Tough kid. He'd raised him right.

"Noah," he said, keeping his voice calm.

Noah hopped off the cot and walked over, his steps confident. "Hey, Dad. Took you long enough."

Ronan couldn't help it—a short, humorless chuckle slipped out. "Yeah, I hit a bit of traffic." He glanced at the guard, who was too busy staring at his phone to notice their exchange.

Kneeling down to Noah's level, Ronan put a hand on his shoulder, voice low and firm. "I'm getting you out of here. Hold on tight when I say so. Got it?"

Noah nodded, his expression serious despite his age. "Got it."

Ronan gave a slight nod, then shot up in one swift motion. Before the guard could react, Ronan's fist smashed into his throat. The man crumpled, gasping for air, and Ronan caught him by the collar, slamming his head into the wall with a sickening crunch. The guard went limp, sliding to the floor.

Noah didn't flinch—just gave a small nod of approval.

"Stay behind me," Ronan ordered, cracking his knuckles.

They slipped out into the corridor, moving with purpose. Ronan kept his senses sharp, ears straining for any sound. It was too quiet, and he didn't trust it. As they reached the end of the hall, he caught a glimpse of movement and yanked Noah behind him, pressing his back to the wall.

Suddenly, the heavy clomp of boots echoed, and Ronan's instincts screamed at him to move. He pushed Noah back into the room, slamming the door shut just as the entire hallway filled with armed men.

Ronan's jaw clenched. A dozen—no, more. Their faces were twisted and unnatural, veins bulging under their skin, muscles grotesquely swollen. They looked like test subjects—freaks created from whatever hellish experiments these bastards were running. Lab-06 all over again.

But one man stood out—calm, collected, no signs of mutation. He stepped forward, lips curling in a mocking smile. "That's far enough, Vale. Be smart and come peacefully. Let the kid go, and we won't hurt him. You? That's another story."

Ronan glared at him, disgust etched into his face. "You used a kid to bait me. You think I'm just going to roll over? Pathetic."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Last warning. You're not walking out with the boy. Let him go, and we'll make your death quick."

Ronan took a step forward, eyes blazing with cold fury. "You're the one not walking out of here alive."

A sudden, dark thrill surged through him as his system activated. The familiar notification flashed before his eyes:

[System Engaged: Bloodlust Detected]

[Kill to Evolve]

[Time Remaining: 10 minutes]

[Failure to kill will result in Life Erosion]

Ronan didn't hesitate. He lunged at the nearest freak, driving his knee into the man's gut and feeling ribs crack under the impact. Without giving him a chance to recover, Ronan's hand gripped his skull and twisted, snapping his neck with a brutal efficiency.

[First kill:20 Exp points rewarded]

The others rushed in—monstrous, rabid—and Ronan's instincts kicked in. He ducked under a wild swing, grabbed the man's arm, and yanked, dislocating it before delivering a savage elbow to his temple. The body crumpled, and Ronan spun to face the next opponent.

One of them lunged with a knife, but Ronan sidestepped, catching his wrist and slamming his fist into the man's jaw so hard teeth shattered. He drove the knife into the guy's own throat, blood spraying across the concrete.

But the corpse didn't stay down. The veins bulged and pulsed, the body twitching before it rose again, wounds knitting together like some grotesque regeneration.

Ronan's eyes narrowed. "You've got to be kidding me."

One of the men sneered, blood still dripping from his split lip. "We don't die that easy, freak."

Ronan smirked coldly. "Let's see you heal from this."

He grabbed another freak by the head, slamming it into the wall until the skull caved in, then ripped a pipe from the wall and swung it like a bat, shattering ribs and kneecaps. One got too close, and Ronan drove the pipe through his chest, pinning him to the wall like a grotesque trophy.

More of them closed in, and Ronan's breathing quickened, adrenaline spiking as he assessed his options. They just kept coming, wounds sealing like they were made of rubber. Regeneration. Fine. He could work with that.

He snatched a combat knife from one of the downed guards and spun, slicing through tendons and arteries with surgical precision. One head rolled, and the body crumpled, lifeless.

With each kill, the system kept rewarding him with Experience points, he had no way to tell how much he had gathered since his awakening, because the system only activated whenever he was in danger and then would completely disappear after it was over.

Ronan wiped the blood from his face, eyes glinting with deadly intent. "Heads off it is."

With brutal efficiency, he targeted their necks, using every bit of speed and precision the system gave him. Heads flew, blood painted the walls, and the survivors finally hesitated—staring at him in shock and horror.

One of the freaks backed up, terror creeping into his twisted features. "He's… he's a monster…"

Ronan glared at him, chest heaving. "Takes one to know one."

When the last one fell, Ronan wiped the blade on his shirt, blood dripping onto the floor in a steady rhythm. The man who hadn't transformed—the one who'd warned him earlier—stared, stunned and pale.

"Impossible… You're not… human…" he stammered.

Ronan stepped over the bodies, his expression dead cold. "Neither are you. But at least I didn't choose to be a freak."

The man stumbled back, fear etching his features as he frantically pressed his earpiece. "We need backup—now! He's—"

Ronan grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. "Who's running this operation? Who's pulling the strings?"

The man choked out, barely able to breathe. "You'll never… know…"

Ronan crushed his windpipe with a single squeeze, dropping him like a sack of meat. He didn't spare the corpse a second glance, already moving back to the room where Noah waited.

He pushed the door open and found Noah sitting calmly, just as he'd left him. The kid raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."

Ronan gave a grim nod, scooping him up. "Let's get out of here."

But suddenly, Noah gripped Ronans hand, stopping his movements, then a smirk curled on his lips, a sharp pain tore through Ronan's chest as his eyes widened in horror, he looked down to find Noah's hand etched into his heart, blood dripping from the wound.

"I'm disappointed, you couldn't even recognize your own son...and that has cost you your life, vale... I'm sure you'll make a good test subject...I believe your son will be of great use to us too." A deep mocking voice spoke, as the person who he once thought was his son transformed into someone else entirely....what the hell!