CHUPACABRA

Chapter Seven: The Afflicted

Seeing Ben again is an unfortunate side effect of meeting with Thirty-Seven. Despite his absence in the months Forty has occupied the gray floor, he has apparently been very active with the other specimen. "Behavior training and all that," he says nonchalantly when Dr. Zapata walks Forty down to the blue floor to see him. He sits in his office, one cubicle among many in a locked part of the blue floor. Forty has been in a room like this before, though Jane's office was decidedly more barren and unsentimental than Ben's, who found a great hobby in tacking up random posters and drawings on the blue cork walls corralling him. "We've made a small breakthrough," he declares proudly, sliding a small black pocketbook out of a metal drawer. "I was able to stand next to him for five seconds without being scratched."

"That's... excellent news," Dr. Zapata quavers, concerned eyes glancing between Forty, who stands with a sentry-like silence, and the notebook.

"Oh, it definitely is. Maybe one day, he'll let me feed him, and then I'll get to talk to him more than screaming at him to please not bite me," Ben laughs, all smiles and democratic pleasantries.

Besides being downright disgusted of the man, Forty has always been slightly impressed by his resilience when dealing with Thirty-Seven. Well, it was either resilience or stupidity, but either way the man was stalwart in bothering Thirty-Seven. Perhaps that's why the other specimen is so ornery. If Ben was Forty's monitor, she thinks she would have bitten someone much sooner, and it definitely would have been him. She'll take Jane's flip flopping attitude and cold demeanor any day over the heavy-handed manner with which Ben lorded over his specimen.

"So, Joey, why are you asking me about Thirty-Seven?" Ben asks, and Forty notices an evil twinkle in his eye. She's come to realize in her time on the gray floor that Dr. Zapata is an important man, though his fatherly mannerisms and kind nature say otherwise.

"I believe it would be beneficial for Thirty-Seven and Forty to meet in controlled circumstances," Dr. Zapata says, his voice level. It does nothing to stop the ensuing laugh that spurts out of Ben's chest.

"You want them to court? Oh my god!" he guffaws, nearly falling out of his rolling chair. "He's so fucking crazy and she's so boring that they might just become normal!"

Forty feels a flush rise to her face, both angry and embarrassed. Why does everyone think she wants to court Thirty-Seven? This is a purely scientific endeavor! Sure, he's objectively pretty, and in nature he would be a good companion as he was strong and fast and ferocious, but this is not the wilds and Forty has no interest in partnership!

"Oh my god! Ew! Look at her face!" Ben laughs, and astonishingly, Forty feels her fangs slip out. "Her crockpot is boiling for him!"

"That's enough Ben!" Dr. Zapata yells, though it's barely louder or meaner than his usual calm voice. He places a soothing hand on Forty's shoulder blade, presses into a space between the vertebrae of her spine. Shockingly, her fangs recede immediately, as if a string had pulled them back into their sockets.

"Fine, fine," Ben says, trying to shake off his last chuckles. "But if you want them to court, you better put a muzzle on Thirty-Seven."

"That's not why we're here," Zapata says, frustration shining through. He pinches the bridge of his nose, rubs his eyes with his knuckles. "You know of the incident between Thirty-Seven and Forty, right?"

"Of course. Thanks for that, by the way," Ben says, turning towards Forty. "While he was under, we were able to conduct a physical exam. He hasn't had one in years."

A small stab of guilt spears Forty's chest, sending her guts on edge. She hopes by physical exam they mean the cursory ones Jane used to perform on Forty every quarter of the year, not the violating one Dr. Daas did recently. "You're welcome," Forty says, voice small.