What Goes Bump In The Night Read online

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  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lyn

  Today started like any other day. I woke up, ate a small breakfast to get my body going, got dressed, then headed off to class.

  I was a pre-med student in college studying to be a chemical pathologist. I wanted to be one of those groundbreaking scientists that helped find the cures to rare and incurable diseases. That was a dream I'd had for as far back as I could remember. It excited me that I was only a couple years away from taking that first step into the field. That excitement never failed to put a bit of pep in my step when I entered my first class of the day, Organic Biology.

  I had the best instructor. Professor Marks was ahead of his time when it came to studying the organic material that made up life, and I was one of his most attentive students. I plopped down in my desk, situated in the front of the class, practically yanking out my book and laptop before my butt even hit the seat. I only had to wait a moment before the one person I looked forward to seeing most in this class sat down next to me. Sutton Reeves. He was an all around great guy with copious amounts of that southern charm you'd hope to see in a guy from southern Mississippi. I did my best to hide the deep breath I took when his cologne hit my nose. He always smelled so good. I watched, mesmerized, as he pushed a hand through his chestnut curls and offered me one of his brilliant smiles.

  My breath always hitched a little when he did that. Those deep hazel eyes of his seemed to smile right alongside his lips.

  He was built like a football player-at least a foot taller than me and muscular from use instead of from the gym. My gaze lowered from his, not wanting him to catch me staring, to watch him absentmindedly twirl a pencil. He had the big rough hands I associated with men that weren't afraid of hard work. I secretly imagined those hands touching me, caressing my cheek or brushing my hair behind my ear.

  "Hey, Lyn. How was your weekend?" He asked me in that delicious southern accent.

  I loved that he always called me by my nickname instead of my full name, Jacquelyn. How he always managed to say it like he was savoring the sounds I didn't know, but it made my pulse flutter every time.

  I bobbed my head, trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks as I answered. "It was nice. Quiet as usual. Just studied for this midterm we have coming up. You?"

  He slid his backpack and laptop case beneath his chair. "Eh, it was alright. My momma called and talked my ear off for near an hour. Still wantin' me to come home next weekend to visit. Had to explain to her that we had a big test comin' up." He rolled his eyes with a smile.

  There was something about a guy who loved his mom more than anyone else in the world. I always thought it was sweet. I wasn't raised by mine. My parents died in a car accident when I was thirteen, so I went to live with my mom's younger sister, my Aunt Renee, and her husband, my Uncle Daniel. They had no kids of their own, so they treated me like I was theirs. I loved them dearly for that.

  I didn't get a chance to say anything else as Professor Marks filed in behind the rest of the students, letting everyone know to pull up the midterm notes we saved Friday.

  Half the class went by without a hitch. I'd occasionally get distracted by Sutton's warm, alluring scent and have to shake my head from the haze it put me in.

  When we were almost finished with going over the second section of the notes, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I stealthily slipped it out, confused on who would be calling me. I didn't have any friends who weren't in class themselves, and my aunt and uncle never called during school hours. I looked at the caller ID and saw my uncle's name, something in the pit of my stomach twinged.

  "Lyn, is everything ok?" Sutton whispered in concern, obviously seeing my worried expression.

  Something wasn't right. Without a word to Sutton or Professor Marks, I gathered my things and raced into the hall.

  "Miss Hyde, where are you-" I heard Professor Marks call out before the door shut behind me, cutting him off.

  I accepted the call and took a deep breath. "Hey, Uncle. What's going on?"

  "Lyn, sweetie, you need to get to the hospital," he said, his voice a bit ragged.

  "What's happened? Is Aunt Renee okay?" I asked, panicked. I was already rushing to my car.

  "It's not looking good, baby girl. I'll explain when you get here. Drive safe, please."

  My heart hammered in my chest as I agreed I would and hung up with him. My aunt Renee had a very rare disease called Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva, or FOP. It was a debilitating disease where muscle tissue and connective tendons would slowly be overtaken by bone, which gradually created bone outside of the skeleton. It was so rare only one out of every two million people contracted it, and there were only a few hundred documented cases in the world. Aunt Renee was diagnosed with it as a child and was wheelchair bound by the time she was thirty. And the worst part was, it was incurable.

  She was my inspiration for wanting to be a chemical pathologist. I was desperately trying to find any way I could to help at least prolong her life. I couldn't bear to lose another mother.

  The drive to hospital was hard. I couldn't stop the tears from escaping as I sped towards it. My aunt was a second mom to me. She was such a kind and beautiful woman, inside and out, who didn't deserve the pain she'd dealt with her whole life. I didn't want to imagine a world without her. I couldn't. But life expectancy with this disease rarely surpassed forty years; she was thirty-five.

  I didn't have much time left with her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  When I got to the hospital and found out what room she was in, my uncle met me in the hall. He enveloped me in a comforting hug and explained that the wheel on her wheelchair had slid off the ramp leading to the front porch of their house. Aunt Renee fell out of the chair and landed on her side too hard on the concrete of the walkway. When there's a fall like that, the muscle and tissue would immediately become inflamed and swell, causing more rapid growth of bone in the affected areas. This fall had been serious enough her entire back and right side had seized. The swelling put too much pressure on her lungs and made it difficult for her to breathe.

  I cried in my uncle's arms, letting him rock me side to side. She was in so much pain. Neither of us were sure how much longer we had with her before this. Now, we were both terrified that the clock was counting down faster.

  My aunt was unconscious due to the pain medication and steroids filtering through her system, so I sat with her quietly. I held her hand and whispered how much I loved her.

  Something inside of me was slowly breaking. I wanted more than anything to be able to help her. I'd even gone as far as experimenting with different concoctions I brewed up in a makeshift lab I put together in the basement of the college. It was pure luck and a desire to escape my tormentors-the pack vicious girls that delighted in harrassing me, the same girls that had relentlessly picked on me in high school-that led to me finding an abandoned room down there that now suited my purpose.

  So far, nothing was useful and my experiments had brought little to no results. But I woul
dn't give up. I was so close to success, I just knew it. She'd never given up on me when I needed her, so I wasn't about to give up on her.

  A fire grew in my chest. Determination washed over me as I listened to the beeping of the machines in her room. This wasn't over. I would do everything in my power to find some way to eradicate this disease from existence.

  With that fire smoldering inside, I pressed a gentle kiss to her head and promised to come back before leaving her room. I rushed a goodbye to my uncle, telling him to call me if anything changed at all.

  In the meantime, I had work to do.

  Arriving back on school campus, I parked my car in an unused lot, near the door I used to access the basement. Rushing inside, I ran down the concrete stairs, my hands shaking with urgency as I pulled the necklace I always wore out from under my shirt. The key hanging from it caught the dim light as I unlocked the door to my laboratory.

  Setting my backpack down, I quickly slipped on my lab coat and threw my long, curly brown hair into a bun.

  Taking a steadying breath as I glanced around, I took in the mishmash of beakers, cylinders, and flasks I'd accumulated over the last four years. Some were stolen from the college and some bought with my own meager funds, but all were filled with a mix of liquids and formulas. All failures.

  Muttering to myself, I walked around turning valves and lighting bunsen burners, adjusting the flames until the variously colored fluids began boiling within their containers.

  Hours passed as I lost myself in the process of adding, adjusting, and tweaking the formulas, furiously scribbling notes as I went, noting chemical reactions and checking my microscope for progress.

  I didn't know what time it was when I finally came out of my frenzy, but my back ached from being hunched over and my stomach was cramping with hunger. Ignoring my physical discomforts, I checked and rechecked my notes, not believing at first that I'd finally done it.

  I wasn't trying to attack the disease directly, not anymore. I'd already tried that route and failed miserably. I'd discovered through my research that FOP was actually the production of excessive bone scar tissue. So I'd switched my focus to creating a new kind of cell, as well as a carrier fluid that would allow the body to accept it. The cell would not only speed regeneration but also target and reverse scar formation. By targeting scar tissue, it should be able to prevent further progression of the disease as well as reverse the damage already done.

  But the only way to prove it actually worked was to test it on a live subject.

  I damn sure wasn't going to try it on my aunt. I couldn't risk it. She was already suffering from her fall and, if this went wrong somehow, I didn't want her paying for my mistakes.

  So that left myself.

  I didn't have the disease Aunt Renee suffered from but, if my theory was correct, I would still be able to see noticeable effects if the cell worked. It should start to divide and replicate in a matter of seconds, erasing any scars I had on my skin as if they never existed, just as it erased the bone and muscle scars inside. An added benefit is that the cell should, theoretically, make me stronger as it healed and fortified connective tissues.

  My heart was pounding with a mix of feverish excitement and nerves as I carefully poured the carrier fluid, and the cell hidden within, into a clean beaker. I sat staring at the vibrant green liquid for a long moment, silencing my fears and gathering my courage.

  "Please let this work," I whispered.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I brought the cold glass to my lips. I squeezed my eyes shut and tipped my head back, downing it in one go.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Nothing happened right away and my shoulders slumped, failure like a physical weight pressing down on me. I'd theorized that the effects should have been immediate, but there was nothing.

  "Maybe it just needs a few minutes to spread throughout my system," I muttered to the empty room, trying to stay positive but my words echoed back to me, sounding hopeless and hollow.

  I didn't notice the gentle warmth radiating outward from my stomach at first, not until it turned to tingles and those tingles turned to a flush of heat. I gasped when that heat spread, rushing over my skin, then deeper until I winced from the sudden ache in my muscles and bones.

  Breathing shallowly through the pain, I sighed with relief when it started to abate. Lifting the hem of my shirt, needing to see proof of success, I rubbed my fingers across my lower stomach where there had been a scar since before my parents died. It was gone. Checking my wrist next, I looked for the burn scar, the one I'd gotten in this very lab. It too had disappeared as if it never existed. There was only pale, perfect skin in its place. An ecstatic smile stretched across my face, wide enough that it hurt.

  "I did it! I actually did-aaahhh," my words cut off as a scream tore its way up my throat.

  Pain exploded like fireworks within me, burning my insides until I felt like the flames should have been visible. It spread up my spine to my head, so intense I was blind with it, black spots taking over my vision. Falling off my stool, I didn't even feel the impact of hitting the ground.

  Horrific, animalistic screams of agony echoed back to me from the cold, bare walls of the lab, almost unrecognizable as my own voice. I clutched at my head as I writhed on the floor, pressing my palms to it with all my strength as if that would make it stop. It didn't. The pain got worse until it was unbearable and blessed darkness consumed me.

  Jacky

  Hissing, I pulled myself off the concrete floor, rising onto unsteady legs as I quickly scanned my surroundings, gazing through the curly green hair falling over my face, instinctively searching for threats. Sniffing at the air, I caught the scent of something bitter and sharp. Gaze dropping to the broken glass on the counter before me, dripping a virulent, green liquid, I swiped a finger through the little puddle and brought it to my mouth. Licking it off, I moaned at the zing that tickled my tongue and laughed in delight.

  Hearing my own voice for the first time, low and husky, I was suddenly curious about the rest of me. I sneered at the pale, pink shirt and tight but old jeans. My nose wrinkled in disgust at the ballet flats on my feet. At least my body was pleasant. Squeezing my full breasts, I slid my hands down to my hips then back around to my ass, smirking in delight.

  I didn't know how I came to be here and had no memory before waking up on the floor, but that wasn't my focus just then. I was itching to explore this world I'd been brought into, and the steady thump of fiery blood in my veins was urging me to hunt.

  I walked through the building, taking in the place with little interest as I looked for an exit. It was quiet and boring here. I wanted to be somewhere loud and full of excitement. No, needed to be. It was an unquenchable thirst building within me, begging to be satiated with all manner of desire and debauchery. This body had known so little of either things.

  I saw flashes of her life. Bits and pieces I had to put together to gather a picture of her. She was quiet and reserved with a highly introverted set of emotions. There was a pretty fine specimen of a man in her life, but she was squandering any chances she had with him by being timid. It was time she had a little fun, and I was more than happy to give this body exactly what it needed.

  I found the exit to the building and stepped into a dark parking lot, lit with only dim streetlights. Several cars were still parked in the vicinity. I wasn't exactly sure which one was hers, but I doubted it would be worth driving anyway.

  I spotted a sleek, black muscle car parked at the back of the lot. It was older compared to the rest of the crap littered around this place. Smiling wickedly, I quickly headed over to it. When I reached it, I traced my fingers over the polished finish, excitement throbbing through my body.
/>   This will do nicely.

  The door was locked, but that wouldn't keep me out. I felt the raw bits of power in the muscles of my arm as I grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open. It was a shame to do it, but oh well. It wasn't my car to worry about anyway. I knew from her I couldn't start it normally without a key. I sat in the leather chair and popped open the panel beneath the wheel. It only took moments of studying the the wires to get the gist of how to start it.

  I guess her brain is good for something .

  I sparked two wires together several times until the rumble of the engine greeted my ears. Twisting them together, I shoved them back in before closing the door and gripping the steering wheel.

  "Time for some fun," I said to myself with glee.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I revved the engine and took off. I drove the streets for a little while, encountering all manner of clubs and bars, but nothing caught my interest. It wasn't until I stopped at a red light a couple miles outside of town that something caught my eye. My heightened hearing picked up the sounds of angry shouting and thunderous applause.

  Now that's what fun sounds like.

  I let my ears direct me on where I needed to go. It only took a couple turns before I saw it. Lingering outside the doors was a crowd of people, some drinking, some passing money back and forth. Glancing upwards at the blinking sign over the door, I read what exactly this place was and why it called to me.

  A wide grin spread across my face.

  MMAdness:

  Open Cage Fights Tonight!

  Do you have what it takes?