Blood Trials
The Serum

"The additional injections that have been administered, have triggered side effects we’d never imagined. Increases in strength, muscle mass, self-healing, stamina. Well beyond born-werebeasts. Their strength is extreme, for their species, due to the second round of injections of the serum. Given that the serum is experimental, it’s possible that the children's immunity could be completely reversed with a perfected serum. I wonder, would a third round of configurations give them more?" Margrethe sighed then shook her head. "Both unlikely without more of the Source’s blood, or the blood of a werebeast-ampyra hybrid."

Ridley tilted her head, watching Margrethe at her desk with her very 2000s tape recorder while swinging in her chair about. Ridley looked at the PC on the glass desk. On the screen was Morgan's file. The last tests that he went through showed promise. "This isn't good," the Source whispered. "Morgan's stats are through the roof. Evolved heightened endurance, superhuman strength..." She shook her head with a deep crease in her eyebrows. "His accelerated healing rate is 3 000 nanometres per second per second."

"How much is yours?"

"Around 2 500, give or take a few microns."

"Can you tell where they are?"

"I smell water," Ridley voiced. "Like a lake, but definitely not an ocean. The place is sterile, maybe a hospital."

"Could be the Consortium's hospital?"

"No. It's a lot smaller. Then again, I can't sense the therianthropes at all. Maybe it's a private lab." Ridley scanned Margrethe's office before her eyes settled back on the doctor. "She's the head doctor here. Without her, all they have is Viggo's sentimental value."

"Go for it."

"Wait," Calista jeered. "If you cut one head off a hydra, two more grow back."

Ridley pulled out her dagger from her ankle boot, standing over Margrethe. "We'll burn that bridge if we get to it," the Source commented.

The huntress arched her dagger. I wouldn't do that. Ridley stabbed Margrethe in the head. The doctor heaved a heavy exhale then started paging through a medical file. You're not physically there, stupid girl. The smug in Ninsun's voice made a resonating growl rumble in Ridley's chest. She looked away while the place faded, replaced with Ahmed's Jeep on the main road of Dunon Town.

"Nothing," the Source answered.

"How many children are...?"

Ridley shrugged to Calista. "There definitely isn't twelve anymore. I have no idea how many have turned successfully and how many are deteriorating in the blind spot."

"Logan," Morgan asked. He was laying in the back - barely clinging to his human form - with Ankh holding him steady. "Is he... dead, or...?"

"No," Ridley admitted. "I can still feel him. He's okay. He's just really tired. They pumped him with adrenaline and more of the serum." Morgan cupped his jaw, reliving the first configuration. The sickening sound of Margrethe's teams drilling into their skulls, pumping Ridley and Ankh's tempered blood into them. "I can see Tsakani's with him, and if I can still feel Logan then he's still an ampyra."

Morgan relaxed and his spine snapped! He yowled. He was ripping his skin and muscle off himself. Ankh laid him down. Tuffs of brown and grey sprouted from sinew and regenerating muscle. The crunch in his bones drowned out the roar of the car on the road. He laid there, panting against Ankh's chest, with his pointed ears going flat. "He can't hold it if he relaxes too much," Ankh stated.

"How do you do it," Ridley inquired.

The wolfen pushed her brown hair behind her ears while her other hand brushed through the fur. "It's not easy," she confessed, turning her green eyes towards the Source. "Like I said, it's easier to stay as a wolf because that's how I was born. This," Ankh sighed, looking back at the wolf laying in her lap, "this is something else. It should be easier for him to stay human but..."

"He's not a wolfen," Calista finished. "Not a natural one. It'll be like this for all of them; jackalen, foxen, hyenian."

Ridley leaned her head into the seat and shut her eyes with the northern parts of Dunon Town filling their windows. Ahmed was stiff behind the wheel, as he took to the hill that led up to the school. The main building and the admin building were where the bulk of activity was. After that were the gardens that separated the sun and moon dorms from the rest of the school, and the teacher's accommodations. Then came a brief patch before the headmaster's residence.

"Badr," Ridley began. "In all this chaos, I never asked how do you feel about all this?"

Ahmed shifted uneasily as he pulled up to the former fort. Calista rested her hand over his hand that was on the gearstick. "It doesn't matter what I feel."

A diplomatic reply, Onuris voice. My fellow Egyptian.

Ridley side eyed the unseen voice. "Badr, please."

She saw him give a deep breath and he killed the engine. Calista looked passed Ridley to Ankh - her order silent yet glaring - and they left the two in the red Jeep. The two women cradled the unconscious wolf from the car towards the house. "You're a good hunter, Ridley." She folded her arms expectantly. The accented, booming voice went on: "I've lived for a long time-- almost as long as your brother. In that time, I've seen humanity do atrocious things. Just when I think they've gotten better, it's something else."

"If you've been alive this long, then you've seen the...?"

"The is no term for it, but I've to know it as the Werebeast Scourges." Ridley nodded weakly at him. "Many colonies have their own traditions. In mine, fangs and furs weren't banned from breeding. My sons, my daughters, my wives..." he shook his head then slouched. "I watched them burn. I heard their screams. It's as you said, if circumstances were different..." Ahmed weakly turned to face her. Ridley pouted her dejection at him. "When I found Talia, I had hope. I thought her child could save our race, but Talia was too weak. And I had to cut Ankh from her."

"He never told me her name," Ankh stated.

"When Sayeed called me with all this, when he told me about Falk's colony, I didn't want to hope again. Now that I've seen it; now that know, you tell me how do I not pick Viggo's side? How many children does he need sacrificed, when almost millions were burned?"

"He had Ankh strapped to a machine, draining her blood to the point he almost killed her."

"But Ankh can't die, can she? As long as you're alive, so is she." Ahmed inhaled sighed and looked over Ridley. "Yes, that doesn't excuse him, or how he's going about this. I just don't think you fully understand the gravity of having a therianthrope population. Half vampire, half werebeast, but stronger than both. The vampires are too vain and decadent to comprehend the genius of this endeavor. They were harrying us for sport. Now?"

Ridley nodded curtly at him then shifted to get out. "As long as we know where we stand. I won't ask you to continue if this is a conflict of interest," she replied. "Margrethe confirmed that the effects are reversible with a counter-serum. I'll have Sayeed look into it. As I understand it, he did lab work for two decades at Charter House."

"Makes you so sure he would want to do it?"

"Nothing. He could tell me doesn't want to and that won't change my opinion of him. Because not only does he have a good head on his shoulders, but he's one of very few people I trust and respect."

She got out of the car and strutted into her house that was filled with Rowan's echoing cries. Ankh stood on top of the resting of the curved grand staircase. Ridley puckered her lips as she took to those very stairs. The Source found her companion with her arms folded, brooding to herself. Ridley leaned against the wall, eyeing Ankh squarely.

Those deep green eyes were glimmering from the tears that were pooling. "They never told me anything about my mother," Ankh stated. Ridley reached a hand to brush the short chocolatey hair from the wolfen's face. "It sounds like she lived with them. Like they didn't just replace a dying wolfen wondering the streets of Alexandria, like they told me. Why would they lie to me? Why would he lie to me?"

"I don't know. Maybe Sayeed would know. I'm summoning him as we speak, you can ask him then. Right now, I need your help taking a pint."

"You really suck at this cheer-me-up thing."

"I'm a terrible person, Ankh. I should have come with a warning label."

Ankh sniffled with a weak chuckle. Ridley rolled her eyes; against her better judgement, she tugged the wolfen into a hug. The wolfen relaxed her shoulders and rested her hands lightly around Ridley's waist. The ghost-like hold Ankh had made the Source's lips tug aside. The house cooled down from Rowan's screams as the two eased into each other. The soft hug ended swiftly and they made for the kitchen.

A shadow was cast over Ankh's emerald eyes as she set up the donation machine Clarke used to for Esmeralda's private blood bank. Ridley rolled up her sleeve and watched Ankh press the needle into her arm. I strong disapprove of this, Ms Axel. Ankh rolled her eyes. It is drawing the Bloodline from your wrists that has steered this path. Won't exhuming more bring more harm than good? Ridley ignored Earnest.

The blood that came out of her arm was a deep murky grey; the colour of platinum. Ankh leaned against the kitchen counter, wallowing. The silent estate was snuffed from Dominique's humming in. She twirled in her full skirt then tore open the refrigerator door. The curvy woman helped herself to Esmeralda's stash of blood. Tomás not far behind.

His piercing blue eyes went wide before he crossed the room to Ridley. He knelt. He hugged her. Ridley scoffed but left him. Dominique drifted behind Ridley and coiled a lock of the hereditary black hair over a finger. She groaned her disgust before tugging on it. Ridley sighed then shook her head to herself. "Must you two faff so much with me?" Dominique pet the hair down.

"I can only imagine the strain your hair has gone through from the humidity, out there," Dominique sang. "Let alone squatting with..." she looked to the absentminded Ankh and cringed. "It's a miracle you're not scratching the back of your ear with your foot, dearest. But we are going need a two-day spa treatment just to get you back into fighting shape."

"Rain check on the spa, Dominique," Ridley dictated. "I have something else that you... Tomás get off me!" The goldblood cleared his throat, scampering back to his feet. The Source sighed then looked back to the splitting image of her mother. Ridley combed her hair aside then shifted awkwardly in her seat. "I need your skills of beautification." Dominique's pale blue eyes went wide. "Dane asked me to be his date to the matric--"

"Shopping? Oh, thank the gods above! I have been waiting for any excuse to finally put together a complete makeup palette for you! Oh, and the dress! There best be a Chanel outlet in this deplorable little muck. Coco is far too busy to come out." Tomás looked between the two women then went pallid. Still Dominique went on, "I better look into seamstresses. No du Luq woman will waltz around looking like a pauper while I draw breath! And salons, and cosmetologists, and jewellers, and cobblers, and transport! Oh, so much to do so little time. Come, Tomás, you and Sebastian will put those wiles and manly strengths to use."

Dominique squealed then towed Tomás out of the kitchen with a pint of blood in her hold. Ridley leaned her head back and sighed. "How long do you think she'll be occupied with that," the Source directed to the wolfen. Ankh continued staring at her bare feet. Ridley cleared her throat but Ankh didn't budge.

"Geez," Sayeed commented as he came in, watching Tomás and Dominique trickle through the manor. "What was that, an incest thing?"

Clarke grumbled alongside him, "what are you doing?"

"Badr, I need a favour," Ridley stated, ignoring her father. "The therianthropes running around could be cured." Sayeed's dark eyes went wide at that. Clarke too blinked his disbelief. "The activation serum is a combination of my blood and born-therianthropes'." Sayeed scoffed and wiggled his lips but not a sound came out. "D’you think you could try to decipher a cure?"

"Wha-what," he roared. Ridley arched an eyebrow at him. "No! Hell no, no cure!"

"Going by that, I'm going to assume that you're of the opinion that having a thriving population of therians is a good idea." Before Sayeed could answer, the Source went on, "fine. Find a cure, and we will only administer to those who want it. Deal?"

"No. No, I can't do that. This's something my family could only dream of."

"Yeah, well my family's dream was for both Ryan and I to graduate from high school. Look how that's going. Newsflash: you can't choose for them. These kids are being forced to become something they've never heard of, by someone they don't know, and most of them don't have long. God forbid, all of them die. Viggo is just going to pump more and more children into this. This's going to go from re-population to domination before you can blink. And you know it."

"I'm sure you could just look into my eyes and puppeteer me into doing this, because that's the only way I will."

"Sayeed," Ankh bellowed abruptly. She strutted passed Ridley and Clarke coldly and stopped inches from him. "You, your mother, and your father have been lying to me for thirty years! You all knew my mother and you all kept that from me. Either you help us, or you never see me again. Ever again. Not even Ridley will replace me."

"You're bluffing," Sayeed jeered.

"Try me."

She glowered at him, unwavering, and balled a fist. Clarke rested a firm hand on Ridley's shoulder watching with her. A low growl rumbled in Ankh's chest with the green in her eyes going grey. "We did it for your own good," Sayeed caved. He turned away from her with a sigh. "I didn't want to keep it from you but..." Sayeed looked between Ankh and Ridley with Clarke. "How can you expect me to do this? Why are you enabling it," the Egyptian pressed. "You of all people--"

"Just make the fucking cure," Ankh hissed. She back tracked towards Ridley. Clarke held out the blood bag for him. "That way we can pretend we're still on the same page."

Sayeed looked at the blood that appeared gold to him. "What makes either of you sure that a cure is possible?"

"What makes you sure that a cure is impossible," Ridley argued. Sayeed seethed at her. "I heard Margrethe mention it. Anything else noteworthy I'll pass along too, along with samples of Morgan's blood when he wakes up." The grade twelve shook his head then mumbled to himself as he left with the warm pint in hand. "If you need more blood..." Sayeed halted. Sayeed sighed. Sayeed left stoically. Ridley looked to Ankh. "If I throw a lamp at you, will you lighten up?"

"What do you think, Sherlock?"

The wolfen stalked out of the kitchen ripping the flimsy yellow sun dress off. As she marched off, the crunch of her bones filled the first floor before she her transfiguration was out of earshot. Clarke merely glanced to his daughter, reaching for one of Mariska's coconut biscuits. Ridley sullenly took the biscuit without saying a word. The principal ran his fingers against her cheek, taking her in with genuine disbelief.

"I can't believe you're home," Clarke admitted. The usually illegible expression was telling; a crinkle in his eyebrows and the faint speckle of tears. "I think between you and Ryan, I was more scared of you leaving home. A large part of me always assumed you'd never come back."

"Don't get used to it, Axel. I'm not staying."

"You've made that explicit. I just hope something happens that changes your mind, so you - at least - come visit every once in a while," Clarke said.

"I have a job, now. I work in a confectionery. Between that and hunting, and being the Source... Dunon is at the bottom of my list of things to care about."

"Either way, I'm proud of the hunter you've become. Your leadership skills need some refining but-"

"Dictators get things done. Poor example, but look at Hitler."

"You could be a little less aggressive."

"I don't sugar-coat shit. I'm not Willy Wonka."

Clarke shook his head then leaned against the counter. "Tell me more about this... werewolf serum."

Ridley looked at the black and white kitchen floor pensively, thinking over all she knew from Viggo, Edwyn and Margrethe. She felt shivers run down her spine, reliving Logan and Morgan strapped down and suffering the wrath of the first configurations. She looked to Clarke, crestfallen, then shrugged weakly. The principal squeezed her shoulder lightly. His meaty paws were a sorely missed sensation.

Ridley inhaled sharply, replaceing solace in the cold expression of concern. "It's a concentrated triple-celled platelet; a combination of the Bloodline, the therianthrope donor, and the host. Even so, the children aren't hybrids, they're more of evolved therianthropes. The mutagen..." Ridley stared at the hereditary dark eyes next to her. "Those children are getting gene-fusions. From something that hasn't been perfected. The scary part is that, this isn't something that's been going on for years. It's not like the pandemic and the vaccine. In a few, short months, one man managed to synthetically multiply an entire race. Despite I want his head mounted on a wall, I'll give Viggo the credit."

Clarke said nothing.

"Anyway. You probably have exams to mark, or students to invigilate."