Mated To Valentine
His spine arches, bones snapping so loud I can hear it from across the room.
His fingers curl into claws, his jaw unhinges as his teeth lengthen, his scream dissolving into something guttural.
The assistants step back, but Dr. Kane watches, fascinated.
I grit my teeth. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”
He doesn’t even glance at me. “Science, my dear, is neither kind nor cruel. It simply is.”
The man’s transformation ends as suddenly as it began. He slumps forward, panting. His eyes flick up—and they aren’t human anymore. They are a deep hue of purple.