Nothing much had changed here these last seven years. The Agency was meticulous in its running, and any breaches in containment were swiftly dealt with no matter how sever they seemed. The venom they got from him was a big part in that, but he was past caring about that any more. He had been for some time. Truth be told, he didn't mind it here. He certainly didn't like it, but his quarters were at least comfortable. Well-designed, that was the term. If he closed his eyes he could pretend that the heat-lamps were the sun, and he was basking on the rocks out there somewhere. That had made the last few years in this underground cell more palatable to him.
His cell was styled like that of the outside , all rock and drylands as far as the eye can see. He couldn't remember much before he'd been taken in by the Agency, but his old home was always in his dreams. He'd given up on ever seeing it again a very long time ago, but he dreamed of it nonetheless. One day he'd been basking somewhere outside Alice Springs, then he'd woken up on a plane surrounded by what looked to him like special forces soldiers and a man in a black suit and tie. 'Commonwealth Cryptid Intelligence Unit', their badges had read, and the man in the suit informed him in a clipped and nearly clinical tone that they were headed to 'Headquarters' somewhere in England. They'd told him where it was, but he'd never been outside of his stretch of the outback before. They could have been in the middle of Siberia for all the difference it would have made to him. It certainly felt like they had been at first thanks to his cold-bloodedness, but when he'd proven himself compliant they'd outfitted his cell to look like this and allowed him to sun himself on the rocks inside all day. It wasn't the real sun, but he didn't care anymore. Honestly, he didn't. He'd been broken in by the Agency a long time ago, and now he didn't even care about getting out anymore.
Nothing much had changed here these last seven years, and at some point Myndie had come to like that. Monotony aside, it was all... it was fine. Fine in a shoulder-shrugging, tired expression sort of way. Nothing ever really happened outside of the schedule he'd come to know, which made today all the more strange. Today, he had a visitor.
The last visitor here had been seven years ago, and that had been him. The person he'd met with had been very nice, but she'd disappeared not long after the tests had been run on his venom and it had been found to be superior to hers.
He had a great deal of suspicion that this one's tests had already been run. The scientists wouldn't have bothered bringing this little cryptid up to meet him otherwise.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The kid looked young, probably just shy of his teenage years assuming he aged like a human, and looked... well, he wanted to use the word 'strange', but that would have been rude. It wasn't like he was particularly normal either, what with the scales that snaked up and around his body in a spiral and reptilian eyes. Where Myndie's body was a patchwork of skin and scales, the kid in front of him had the palest skin he'd ever seen. It wasn't a normal phenomena like albinism either, but something... eerie. Otherworldly. It was pale in a way he'd never seen before, pale like a ghost only more solid. In stark contrast his hair was pure black, as were his eyes save only a white pupil at the centre of each eye.
Oh, and there were eight eyes. And six arms. Yeah, now that he thought about it he probably should have found that to be the most salient features of this kid rather than the supernatural pallor of his skin.
"Designation E-004," the man with the suit said, as though Myndie could be reduced to his number instead of his name, "this child has been found suitable for E-Ward habitation. We are entrusting it to your care for the duration of his settling-in period, during which you are expected to answer any questions it may have about your life with the Agency. We trust you will not deliberately scare the child whilst it is with you, but maintain patience nonetheless; this specimen is skittish. The toxins it is capable of injecting via its chelicerae seem to cycle on a biweekly basis between a deadly venom similar to your own and an anaesthetic muscle relaxant designed to incapacitate and render prey unconscious. The second of those two cycles is in effect at the moment. That should be all the information you need. See to your task."
Without so much as waiting for Myndie to respond the Agency men left the room, letting him look over the kid a little more. He already knew what this was, a final way he could be of use to the Agency now that his replacement was here, but as soon as he saw the little fang-like teeth in the kids mouth it all seemed so much more real; he now knew for certain that his time had come. The kid had some sort of venom or chemical of his own, and so there wouldn't be any need for Myndie anymore. He was being replaced by a newer, more usable, inmate. Had it happened five years ago he'd have probably been terrified.
But this was not five years ago. This was now, all he could bring himself to do was sigh.
"Alright. Lets get you settled in, kid. I'll tell you what you need to know, and help you where I can. What's your name?"
The kid smiled up at him shyly, and Myndie couldn't help but smile back.
"Wander, mister."
"Well then Wander," he said whilst ruffling the kid's hair, "let's see if I can help you out at all, shall we?"
Wander nodded vigorously, almost excitedly, and Myndie felt a pang of pity for both himself and the little cryptid in front of him. Hopefully this kid would get a better chance at life than he'd been given.