Polyvalent Serum - Alexis Shrewsbury
fiction ☆
fiction ☆
Date: [REDACTED] Time: 20:00
Dr. Desmond Elapp, Transformation Journal #1 (Preliminary):
I can report with a groggy head that phase one of injecting the serum into a host has been completed. I’ve survived the procedure. We’re now onto phase two. Forgive me if my handwriting is a bit messier than usual. When I first awoke in the lab with a throbbing in my skull, I rolled up my coat sleeve and saw the blemish on my shoulder, rounded and red like a single mosquito proboscis had pierced through my skin. The muscle was stiff, nearly immovable. The intravenous sedation through the middle of my arm didn’t help with the numbness of the limb either.
To knock myself out of my initial daze, I picked myself up from the floor and made my way to the sink, only with the glow of the moon from the small window watching me shuffle. The faucet handle screeched as I pulled it forward. Sensitive ears. A good sign. A stream of liquid came forth from the faucet, hissing at me. I ran my fingers through the cool water before splashing it across my face.
There, I noticed my reflection ahead of me. My usual mane of black matted hair adhered to the edges of my forehead and the back of my neck with a mixture of water and sweat. My body didn’t feel particularly hot, yet placing the back of my hand on my forehead indicated that I had grown warm. An unanticipated side effect, perhaps. In my eyes, the dark saucer in the center had shrunk to make room for more of the yellow iris.
My stomach then growled and I suddenly felt the need to spit down into the drain as saliva was starting to overflow beneath my tongue. My mouth was salivating like I was staring at a freshly seared steak. Tender, juicy meat where blood spills from the flesh as it’s sliced. I licked my saliva coated canines. I had to compose myself.
As I am to be detained in this room for four hours (the precautionary time set for any destructive side effects), blankets, cushions, and water have been provided during my waiting period. I’ve perched myself on the floor at the far end of the lab; any moonlit shadow is crushed between my back and the wall. I understand that it’s unorthodox for the head researcher to volunteer himself for the project, but I was confident in what we had created. I wanted the first taste of what could lead to thousands of lives being saved.
Date: [REDACTED] Time: 21:00
Dr. Desmond Elapp, Transformation Journal #2:
More often than not, I feel myself licking the back of my canine, dragging my tongue across the bone structure before wrapping it below the point. The bone is expanding. It’s grown sharp. I am overcome with the urge to bite down on something, to sink my teeth into something soft so that it leaks with sugary nectar.
During these first delusions, I unconsciously chewed the inside of my cheeks raw, like a wolf snacking on its last bits of prey, before I winced in pain, realizing I had pierced the top layer of skin. A pop of blood from the puncture wound dripped from my flesh and the metallic taste coated the side of my mouth. (Isn’t it interesting how human blood tastes similar to that of freshly cooked cattle?)
My salivary glands flooded again. I got up to the sink and spit, then swirled the red life liquid of my body down the drain with the stream of the faucet. I hissed back at it out of instinct. I took another look into the mirror above. The tips of my ears have elongated and widened for an even rounder shape. Around the helix, a coat of black and sandy tinted hair, or fur, has sprouted—like a lion’s. Beneath my collar, two lumps have grown on…No, out of the right side of my neck. Their coloration is darker and their texture is solid, like two rocks have embedded themselves into my skin. If I fell down a flight of stairs, this is what I imagine the bones of a broken neck to appear as when it tears a hole through the flesh. If the serum does its job, however, I shouldn’t have to worry about breaking my cervical vertebrae, or any bone for that matter, on such simple everyday objects again.
The DNA of the predatory and prey animals we put in the serum appear to be reacting in unpredicted ways within a human bloodstream. As we know, we created the serum to strengthen our bodies so we aren’t so…fragile. Simple poisons from plants, venom, internal diseases that currently have no cure, pain—all of it is a threat to our survival. Yet even with the serum inside me, I am not immune to these mutations as a result of side effects. Further testing will have to be completed.
After I checked my reflection, I cracked open a bottle of water and gulped the clear fluids down to wash away the taste of blood, but even now it still lingers on the palate. Taunting me. The liquid didn’t help quell the increased roughness of my tongue either.
We consider ourselves intelligent, but what good does that intelligence do when our bodies are so frail?
Date: [REDACTED] Time: 22:00
Dr. Desmond Elapp, Transformation Journal #3:
I knew the risks of side effects going in, but not like this. The lumps in my neck are no longer lumps. They’re horns. They’re protruding from the roots of my neck and have curved to the side into a long arc, sharing similarities with those of a large goat. I can no longer lie on my right side, nor properly on my back. My head feels sore from adjusting to the weight. It’s a poor construction of human anatomy that we can get hurt so easily. You hit your knee, you get a bruise; you cut yourself on a scrap of paper, you bleed; you bang your head on a measly table, you die. It’s infuriating.
To make matters worse, green scales have coated the left side of my neck, like a venom spreading in my nerves. They’re between a fine line of texture: not too smooth, though not rough like the hide of an alligator. Upon further discovery, the scales have traveled from my neck, all the way down my spine and to the tailbone. There’s another protrusion at the end of my tailbone that’s trying to split through the part of my scaled skin. I managed to rip a small hole around it through the fabric of my pants to alleviate some of the tension from the growing nub of bone.
I am not in severe pain, minus the strain of a sore head keeping itself aloft and the slight pinches of pressure that I can shrug off like an itch. I do not feel exhausted. Despite my physical condition and a gurgling stomach that’s trying to devour itself, I somehow feel stronger.
Date: [REDACTED] Time: 23:00
Dr. Desmond Elapp, Transformation Journal #4:
I thought a snake had found its way into the room. Swayed by an uncontrollable instinct, no doubt caused by hunger, I grabbed it with my bare hands and squeezed its airway like I was strangling it, until a sharp pain shot up my spine. I let go and realized the slithering appendage was a part of me.
Unaware of its growth due to there being no indication of discomfort, the green scales that were carved into my skin have continued to congregate into a solid mass of a tail. There’s two barbs at the end of it, like a mutated scorpion. Though, at a second glance, the barbs are more like fangs. I’ve learned to move it, gradually, like a broken arm mending itself to bend once more.
It is impressive how a human body can regenerate. It’s not as effective as lizards and starfish of course, but it’s a start. The bite wound I delivered to myself inside my cheek has smoothed over and healed already, faster than any human average. The serum is working. Not completely as anticipated, but it’s working. My senses are sharper, my skin is more durable, and my skeletal structure feels reinforced, but I still have a blatant gnawing at my stomach that craves something to satisfy it.
I bit the inside of my cheek again. When the blood oozed down my gums and formed puddles across my tongue… I swallowed it this time.
Physically, I am monstrous, but I am still human. My thoughts are still coherent. Perhaps even honed. When I am freed, I’ll crave to perfect the serum so that us poor specimens no longer have to live in fear over the unexpected deaths that devour our lives much too soon. No one will be immortal, but at least we’ll be back at the top of the food chain where we belong.
Date: [REDACTED] Time: 24:00
Dr. Desmond Elapp, Transformation Journal #5:
Why are human bodies so weak? So frail? So pathetic? The past hour had me shivering violently in a blanket, curled up on my (good) side as grumbles that sounded like growls escaped from my throat. There was a searing pressure in my chest like my heart wanted to tear itself from my circulatory system. My muscles twitched and spasmed as the final stage of the serum moved through me like it was shocking and slicing through every cell, until the chills finally began to settle.
When I recovered with a refreshing taste of air, my body felt invigorated. My chest felt warm, like a heated pad had relaxed all of the strained muscles. The numbness of my arm had dissipated and I felt an intoxicating surge down to my fingertips. I lapped my tongue across my pointed canines.
I lifted myself to my feet, then stalked my way over to take one last look into the mirror. My pupils were barely a speck within my nearly golden irises, my horns rooted to the side of my neck were bulky and pointed, and my tail whipped around to my other side with its barbs bladed and ready to bite. The rest of me, however, was still perfectly human.
A growl prickled deep in my throat as I felt my hunger insist for fulfillment, reaching the impatient level of starving.
A venomous strike from a snake, the malpractice of mosquitoes when they draw blood, the gall that diseases have when they feast on our organs, or even the sicknesses passed by the compromised immune system of a human. The Chimera Serum will prevent these pests—prevent our flimsy bodies from being weak to their poisons and pain. Now that it’s running through my veins, feeble creatures can’t hurt me now.
My ears twitch. I hear footsteps approaching in the hall. My co-workers will be here soon to release me. And once they open the door, I’ll treat myself to dinner.
Alexis Shrewsbury is a Creative Writing graduate from California State University, Northridge. Her likes range from the joys of dragon-roaming fantasy to the thrills of heart-wrenching horrors. Driven by observations in popular culture and the importance of fandoms, Alexis aspires to inspire her audience with the impact that storytelling can achieve. She has presented her fandom studies at SWPACA in 2024 and 2025, and has previously been published in The Northridge Review, The Scarlet Review, and The Dabbling Duck. Instagram: alexisshrewsbury_ / YouTube: @AlexisShrewsbury
