Pain bloomed in Brendon's skull like a dull flower.
Throbbing.
Relentless.
He stirred awake slowly, his senses blunted and his body stiff. The first thing he noticed was the biting grip of the rope coiled around his wrists and ankles. It wasn't just tight—it was expertly knotted, meant to hold even someone like him.
His surroundings were dim. A soft green glow pulsed faintly in the air, as if filtered through a layer of thick, shifting fog. His back ached from the cold stone floor beneath him, and the metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth.
He grunted as he shifted.
"Urgh… feels like my head got hammered," he muttered, wincing. "Reminds me of that hit in the evidence room... Huh. It's been a while."
He tugged at the ropes. No give.
His muscles, though aching, were tensed in instinct. He exhaled slowly, letting his inner senses awaken, searching for weakness in the binds, for tension points he could exploit. But just as he began focusing, a voice drifted through the dark—a voice precise and deliberate, yet disturbingly familiar.
"Hey, Brendon! It's nice to have you here."
The voice sent a cold shiver down Brendon's spine. He froze.
No… it couldn't be.
A figure emerged from the veil of shadows, sharp eyes glinting with an unnatural light, his silhouette almost too perfect. The man's once-golden hair now had a sheen of sickly green. His lab coat, once a symbol of reason and knowledge, now fluttered behind him like a madman's cloak.
Brendon's eyes widened.
"Doctor... Grimm?" he whispered.
The figure stepped into full view, smiling like a host welcoming a guest to an eternal nightmare.
"Missed me?" Dr. Vaelrick Grimm said casually.
"You... you're alive?" Brendon rasped. "But you— I thought you—"
"I vanished? Died in the hands of this mysterious people? Went mad in the woods?" Vaelrick chuckled. "Oh, I've guessed that."
Brendon's mind spun. The last time he'd heard anything about Dr. Grimm, it was when Doctor called him to tell that something is wrong going on here. But now… here he stood, very much alive. And something about him was deeply, deeply wrong.
Brendon's instinct kicked in. "Let me go. You're making a huge—"
He cut himself off mid-sentence.
Something… reeked.
He blinked, focused harder. That smell… it wasn't blood or chemicals or antiseptic. It was earthy. Sharp. Familiar.
His eyes narrowed.
"Wait a minute… why are you smelling like Nightroot?" he asked, more to himself than anyone.
Grimm's grin deepened. "Does that really matter?"
"Yes. It does." Brendon's voice was steady now, fueled by both confusion and suspicion. "You once told me Nightroots are volatile. Their usage is dangerous—hallucinogenic, toxic, even fatal in high doses. And you're human. But I can smell a large concentration on you. Your blood, even your breath carries it. That shouldn't be possible."
Dr. Grimm's smile didn't fade. He tilted his head slightly.
"Are you so sure… that I am human?"
Brendon's heart skipped.
"What?"
Without a word, Vaelrick raised his right hand—and something horrifying happened.
His forearm twisted, skin creaking like wood under pressure. Veins turned green and bulbous. The flesh cracked open—not with blood, but with growth. Like a tree branch springing forth from living meat, a tendril of Nightroot unfurled from his arm. Leaves pulsed with unnatural vitality. Tiny red bulbs blinked like eyes.
Brendon's breath caught in his throat.
"Unbelievable…" he whispered.
"Isn't it impressive, Brendon?" Vaelrick asked with a gleam in his eye.
"B-but… how?"
"Ah," Grimm said, tapping his temple. "I forget. My lineage isn't exactly popular in modern mythology. It's been pushed to the margins. Forgotten."
Then it hit Brendon like a thunderbolt.
His eyes widened again.
"You're a…"
"Yes. A Mythriven," Grimm confirmed. "Congrats on getting to that. You always were the smart one."
He clapped mockingly, the Nightroot vine retreating into his arm like a grotesque serpent slithering back into its den.
"So it's you," Brendon growled, his voice now laced with fury. "You're behind it all—the disappearances, the chimeric creatures, the revival of those experiments from the 1950s."
Vaelrick nodded, theatrically.
"Yes, Mr. Wannabe Detective. You cracked it. It took you longer than I expected, but you finally decoded it."
"But why?" Brendon demanded. "Why go to such insane lengths?"
For the first time, Grimm's smile faded. He turned his back to Brendon and walked toward a table littered with vials and dusty files.
"You want my story, is that it?" he asked softly. "Fine. You've earned it."
The green glow around them intensified. As Grimm began to speak, his voice became distant—as if dredging up memories from a nightmare he could never wake from.
"I was born in Versailles. A beautiful city. Rich in history. I was just a boy—bright, curious, fascinated with biology. Plants, genetics, evolution… I wanted to be a pioneer. I wanted to heal."
He paused, staring into a flask filled with a swirling green liquid.
"My parents… they were researchers. Kind-hearted people. Never hurt anyone. But the world around us didn't care. The paranoia after the Cold War, the fear-mongering… it painted us as villains. 'Foreign spies.' 'Terrorist sympathizers.' Lies."
His fists clenched.
"One day… the locals turned on us. A mob. Fire. Screams. I watched them burn alive. They were my parents, Brendon. And no one cared."
Brendon listened, jaw tight.
"I fled. Took what I could. Eventually, I found my way to Lagooncrest Isle. A forgotten place. It welcomed outcasts. I survived."
He turned to face Brendon again, now expressionless.
"When I was sixteen, I found this lab. Left behind by shadows of the past. Files on cross-species genetics. The 'Chimera Project'—born after Hiroshima, when America's power forced the world into a race for biological supremacy. France tried to keep up. And failed." [A additional note Mythrivens age differently from humans. They remain young for a long time. Approximately after 65-70 years later they show the signs of their old age a bit.]
Grimm's eyes flared.
"But I succeeded."
"You're insane," Brendon whispered.
"No. I'm transcendent," Vaelrick replied. "You see, Nightroots aren't just hallucinogenic. They're connective. Psychically. Spiritually. I discovered that when refined, they allow me to tether minds. I inject them into subjects. I feel their heartbeat. I guide their instincts. That chimera you fought? It was an extension of me."
Brendon's stomach turned.
"So… they aren't alive? They're puppets?"
"Oh, they're very much alive. But their will belongs to me," Grimm said coldly. "And now… you."
Brendon's eyes burned with fury.
"What?"
"I've heard stories," Grimm said. "From my scouts. That you're not just a skilled investigator. That you're The Big Bad Wolf in the flesh. Another Mythriven. A being of fangs and fury, born from fable."
He stepped closer, face inches from Brendon's.
"I was curious. So I had you followed. Tested. The blood sample from your injury, the one you get when attacked by my men, confirmed it."
He stepped back, arms wide.
"I want to improve you. Make you more. Imagine it—your Mythriven strength combined with the endurance of a gorilla, the hide of a crocodile, the tracking senses of a hawk. My ultimate weapon."
"No…" Brendon growled.
"Yes," Grimm purred. "You will be my masterpiece. My alpha. My symbol. Humanity will kneel before our kind. I'll reshape this world—one genetic splice at a time."
Brendon's voice was quiet but firm.
"You won't get away with this."
Grimm smirked. "I already have."
Just then, a distant sound echoed—muffled, but sharp. Like a suppressed footfall or a shifting wall. Grimm paused.
"What was that?" he whispered, glancing back toward the corridor.
Brendon smiled through the pain. "Looks like my backup's finally arrived."
Grimm turned back to him with a scowl. "It doesn't matter. I'll just accelerate the process."
He reached for a syringe on the table—its contents glowing with that same green hue.
Brendon struggled violently against the ropes, his breath ragged. His instincts screamed. His wolf within howled.
As Grimm neared with the syringe, Brendon's eyes narrowed.
"This won't end well for you," he warned.
"I disagree," Grimm replied.