𝐘𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐲 - 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟏𝟏𝟔𝟔

Chapter 11: Betrayal

Quinn wandered through the ruined laboratory, his steps slow and uncertain. As he neared the exit, he caught sight of something familiar among the scattered papers and broken equipment on a nearby desk. It was Dr. Sawyer's clipboard, his careful handwriting marking Quinn's progress, notes about his "potential." The pages were smudged with blood, crumpled and torn, but his name stood out at the top in bold letters.

Quinn's hands trembled as he lifted the clipboard, reading through Sawyer's observations. It was like peering into his old self—a distant memory of the boy he had been. He remembered the reassurance Sawyer had given him, the gentle guidance, even if it had all led to this monstrous transformation. 

"PRISONER PROFILE | ID Number: EID-1166

Behavior

Characteristic for these early ilk, 1166 demonstrates an acute lack of higher cognitive function. Complex reasoning, speech, problem-solving, and greater introspection all appear either severely limited or altogether nonfunctional. Physically, it's what it needs to be. Strong. Agile. Swift. And yet I'd hoped for a greater mind behind it.

However, 1166 displays an odd sense of loyalty to a select few security staff, who nauseatingly feel some kind of sympathy for it, indicative of domesticated dogs and cats. This means its will can be bent. It feels. It fears.

I believe this is our first sign of progression. That our processes, while admittedly still rudimentary, are showing us where more work need be done, and that improvements ARE possible. Still, 1166, "Yarnaby" is an odd, funny little creature. The way it sits in the corner. I got a good laugh out of it. It amuses me.

Conclusion

I'm going to isolate it. It'll have contact with no one but me. Considering my importance to the project, it's doubly important that I'm properly protected at all times. And besides, I might get a good laugh or two at the pathetic little sounds it makes.

By the time I'm done with it, I'll be its entire world.

It'll know nothing else.

Observer Signature: Dr. Harley Sawyer"

A surge of anger and sorrow welled up within Quinn, conflicting emotions swirling in his mind. Sawyer had left him, abandoned him without a word, letting Quinn become something that even he barely recognized. And yet, the Doctor never really cared for him.

He took a deep breath, dropping the clipboard back onto the desk, and turned toward the open doorway. 

Just then, he heard a faint shuffle behind him. He spun around, tense, half-expecting another scientist or maybe even Sawyer himself. But it was just a fellow experiment, one he hadn't noticed before—a small version of Bobby Bearhug, its eyes wide and uncertain, its movements cautious.

The creature looked up at him, a faint curiosity in its gaze. For a moment, Quinn saw a reflection of himself in those eyes—fear, confusion, and the fragile hope of finding a place where they could belong. The two of them stood in silence, a quiet understanding passing between them.

Quinn mouth opened slowly, the creature backed away. Quinn knew he had to choose between the boy he'd been and the creature he'd become.

With a final glance at the wreckage of the laboratory, Quinn's teeth sank into the small creature, feeling it trying to escape, and hearing it's pathetic cries as his mouth clamped shut and he swallowed what was left of the creature.

He wasn't Quinn anymore. He was Yarnaby.