Chereads / BEASTMARKED / Chapter 6 - Chapter 6 Edward’s Gift

Chapter 6 - Chapter 6 Edward’s Gift

A bit later, Hermes made his way to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a cacophony of sounds—clinking metal trays, murmured conversations, and the occasional barked order from guards. Hermes stepped inside, his nose wrinkling at the pungent mix of odors. His heightened senses made everything sharper: the greasy smell of overcooked food, the sweat of the guards, and the metallic tang of stress in the air.

He grabbed a tray of food from the counter, barely glancing at what was on it. The meal was unremarkable—a small piece of fish, some soggy vegetables, and a stale roll. As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on Edward, sitting alone at a table in the corner.

Edward was hunched over his tray, methodically picking at his food with a fork. His eagle wings were tucked tightly against his back, and his sharp, golden eyes occasionally darted around the room.

Hermes walked over and dropped his tray onto the table with a dull thud, causing Edward to glance up in surprise.

"Mind if I sit?" Hermes asked, though he was already pulling out a chair.

Edward shrugged. "Go ahead. Not like I own the place."

Hermes sat down and picked up his fork, jabbing it into the piece of fish on his plate. He'd barely taken a bite when Edward wrinkled his nose and leaned back slightly.

"You smell like fish," Edward commented, his tone neutral but his expression mildly annoyed.

Hermes stopped mid-chew and stared at him, deadpan. "I'm literally eating fish." He gestured at Edward's tray, which also contained a piece of fish. "So are you."

Edward blinked, then glanced down at his plate as if realizing it for the first time. "Fair point," he muttered, poking his food with a fork.

Hermes snorted, shaking his head. "You've got eagle eyes, huh? Can't see your own lunch?"

Edward's mouth twitched into a faint smirk. "Guess not. Or maybe yours just smells stronger."

"Lucky me," Hermes muttered, taking another bite.

The two ate in relative silence for a few moments, the din of the cafeteria filling the void between them. Hermes occasionally glanced at Edward, who seemed oddly calm despite their circumstances.

"So," Hermes finally said, setting down his fork, "how are you holding up?"

Edward shrugged again, his wings shifting slightly with the motion. "About as well as anyone, I guess. I keep to myself, follow orders, and try not to get noticed. You?"

Hermes hesitated, his mind flashing back to the salamander boy and the injection. "I'm managing," he said quietly.

Edward's sharp eyes studied him for a moment, as if he could see the turmoil hidden beneath Hermes's calm exterior. But he didn't press. Instead, he glanced around the room, his gaze briefly settling on a group of guards by the door.

"This place," Edward said, his voice low, "it's not just a prison. It's a lab. They're testing us, changing us. And I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon."

Hermes nodded grimly. "Yeah. I figured that out."

Edward's gaze returned to Hermes, his expression serious. "We need to stick together. Watch each other's backs. It's the only way we'll survive this."

Hermes considered his words for a moment before nodding. "Agreed. But don't think I'm going to share my fish with you."

Edward let out a short laugh, the sound almost foreign in the bleak environment. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Edward set his fork down, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward. "Hey," he said in a low voice, "have they told you about the… gifts?"

Hermes froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then set his utensil down. "Yeah," he said cautiously. "Why?"

Edward shrugged, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his expression. "I heard some of the guards talking about it. They said not everyone's supposed to have one, but some do, and they don't always show up right away. Guess it's tied to whatever animal traits we've got."

Hermes remained silent, his eyes scanning Edward's face for any sign of deception.

"You got one?" Edward asked, his voice casual but probing.

Hermes hesitated. He didn't want to admit it, not yet. The spectral claws felt too personal, too strange. But Edward's tone wasn't mocking or accusatory—it was curious, even hopeful.

"Maybe," Hermes said finally. "But I'm not sure I trust it."

Edward tilted his head, his sharp gaze never leaving Hermes. "Fair. I don't exactly trust mine either."

Hermes blinked. "You've got one too?"

Edward nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. Took me a while to figure it out, though. It's something with my eyes. If I focus hard enough, I can activate this… weird mode. It's like everything slows down. Not literally, but my reaction time goes way up, and I can see everything around me—like, full 360 degrees."

Hermes stared at him, impressed despite himself. "That's… insane. How does that even work?"

Edward shrugged. "No idea. Feels like my brain's going to fry if I keep it on too long, though. It's useful, but it's not something I'd want to rely on all the time."

Hermes leaned forward, lowering his voice even more. "Why are you telling me this?"

Edward's golden eyes softened slightly, and he offered a small, knowing smile. "Because I figure we're in the same boat. If we don't trust each other, who are we gonna trust? The guards? The scientists? No chance."

Hermes sighed, running a hand through his smoke-colored hair. "Fine," he said quietly. "I've got something too. It's… kind of like claws, but not physical ones. I can make these spectral claws appear around my hands. They're stronger than normal claws, but it's not like I can use them all the time."

Edward's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "That's awesome. You could rip through anything with those, couldn't you?"

"Probably," Hermes admitted, though he didn't share Edward's enthusiasm. "But they freak me out a bit. It doesn't feel natural, you know?"

Edward nodded, his expression understanding. "Yeah, I get that. This whole thing—none of it's natural. But we're stuck with it. Might as well figure out how to use what we've got to survive."

Hermes gave a faint, reluctant smile. "Guess you're right."

Edward smirked and leaned back again, casually picking at his food. "I usually am."

Hermes rolled his eyes but felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time since the transformation, he didn't feel completely alone.

After a while, the conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, both boys finishing their meals in relative quiet. The unspoken bond they'd formed hung in the air, a subtle reassurance in the oppressive environment.

Edward glanced at the clock on the wall, his golden eyes narrowing. "Looks like lunch is almost over. We should head back before the guards start yelling."

Hermes nodded, pushing his tray aside and standing. "Yeah. Last thing I need is more attention from those guys."

The two made their way toward the exit, weaving through the rows of tables filled with beastfolk. A few glanced at them, but most were too absorbed in their own meals—or too afraid—to pay much attention.

"See you around, Hermes," Edward said as they stepped into the hallway. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of sincerity beneath it.

"Yeah, see you," Hermes replied, giving a small wave before turning toward the direction of his cell.

As they parted ways, neither noticed the figure standing in the shadows at the far end of the cafeteria. A scientist in a pristine white coat watched them intently, their thin lips curling into a sinister smile.

The scientist's cold, calculating eyes followed Hermes as he disappeared down the hallway. They scribbled a note onto the clipboard in their hands, muttering under their breath.

"Interesting," they said softly, their voice dripping with malice. "Very interesting."

With one final glance at the now-empty cafeteria, the scientist turned and walked away, their footsteps echoing ominously down the sterile corridor.

As Hermes walked down the cold, dimly lit corridor toward his cell, he felt a growing unease. The halls were eerily quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying his footsteps. He tried to push down the gnawing anxiety in his chest, focusing instead on the conversation he'd just had with Edward.

Before he could reach the turn leading to his cell block, two guards appeared in front of him. They moved with practiced precision, blocking his path.

"Hermes Caine?" one of them barked, his tone clipped and authoritative.

Hermes froze, his body instinctively tensing. "Yeah?"

"Come with us," the other guard said, already reaching for his arm.

"Why? What's going on?" Hermes demanded, though he didn't resist as they flanked him and began leading him down a different hallway.

"You'll find out soon enough," the first guard replied, his tone making it clear there was no point in arguing.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached a reinforced metal door. One of the guards swiped a keycard, and the door hissed open, revealing a sterile room lit by harsh white lights. In the center of the room stood a cold metal table with restraints. Various machines surrounded it, their screens flickering with unreadable data.

Hermes's stomach churned as they guided him inside. "Hey, hold on a second—what is this?"

The guards didn't answer. They shoved him onto the table and began strapping him down.

"Wait!" Hermes shouted, struggling against the restraints. "What are you doing?"

The guards ignored him, finishing their work before stepping back. Moments later, a scientist entered the room, their white coat immaculate, their expression unreadable.

"Good evening, Mr. Caine," the scientist said, their voice clinical and detached. They moved to a console and began typing, the machines around Hermes whirring to life.

"What do you want?" Hermes snapped, his voice laced with anger and fear.

The scientist didn't look at him. "We're conducting routine evaluations of those who have received the salamander serum. You've been selected for today's session."

Hermes's heart raced. "What do you mean, 'routine evaluations'? I didn't sign up for this!"

The scientist finally turned to him, their eyes cold and calculating. "You don't need to sign up for anything here, Mr. Caine. Now, let's begin."

They picked up a clipboard and began asking questions, their tone eerily calm. "Since the injection, have you experienced any unusual sensations? Pain? Fatigue?"

Hermes glared at them, his jaw tight. "No."

"Have you noticed any changes in your physical abilities? Strength, endurance, or reflexes?"

Hermes hesitated, debating whether to say anything about his regeneration. "Not really," he lied.

The scientist's eyes narrowed slightly, but they continued. "What about emotional changes? Increased aggression or fear?"

Hermes clenched his fists against the restraints. "I feel fine."

The scientist leaned closer, their lips curling into a faint, unsettling smile. "You're lying."

Hermes's blood ran cold. "What do you want from me?"

The scientist didn't answer. Instead, they moved to one of the machines, pressing a few buttons. Hermes felt a sharp prick in his arm as a needle descended from above, drawing a vial of his blood.

"Your progress is remarkable," the scientist said, almost to themselves. "The regeneration has taken hold faster than expected. You'll be very useful to us."

"Useful?" Hermes spat. "I'm not your experiment!"

The scientist gave him a cold, humorless smile. "Oh, but you are. And if you cooperate, this will all go much smoother for you."

Hermes glared at them, his body trembling with suppressed rage. "You'll regret this," he growled.

The scientist didn't respond, merely jotting down a few more notes before turning to the guards. "Take him back to his cell."

The guards unstrapped Hermes, dragging him off the table despite his resistance. As they hauled him out of the room, the scientist's voice echoed after him.

"Don't get too comfortable, Mr. Caine. We'll see you again soon."

Hermes's mind swirled with anger and fear as he was forced back toward his cell, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.