Savage Lullaby

[wildchild]

The scratching of thorns and brambles against his skin, the feeling of dirt beneath his bare feet, the rush of the cool summer air against his skin.

All of it was so natural, so comfortable to Kyle, this feeling of absolute freedom, that he often was found smiling in his sleep.

At least during this phase of the dream.

Soon, the dream gained a red tint, and it began a descent into nightmare. He wasn't running to run, for the sheer thrill of being wild and free. He was hunting.

A woman bathes her child in a river, cooing a lullaby to calm it's screaming. "Hush little baby, don't say a word....", as Kyle watched from the branches of a tall tree. They suspect nothing, like the good prey that they are...

Trapped in his own mind, Kyle watched in horror as he made his attack.

Savage. He always dreamed of being a savage. Of hunting, of eating flesh. Of enjoying every bite.

He roared, but not in the dream, sending a bellowing call across the lab.

He awoke in a cold sweat, and ritualistically reached for his medicine. The medicine always helped him sleep. The medicine chased the bad dreams away. He only hoped he didn't wake anyone.

((open))

[Hank McCoy]

There was a soft tapping at Kyle's door.

"Kyle?", Dr. McCoy's voice said from outside it.
Henry hadn't been sleeping. He often took the opportunity to work on things at night that he could never have managed with all the hustle and distraction of the normal work day.

"Is everything alright?", he asked.

[wildchild]

Kyle shook two little white pills from the bottle, and threw them down his throat. He gulped down a swig of water from a cup on his nightstand

"Just more nightmares..." He said, reaching up to rub his face, "They're....becoming..."

More what, what exactly were they?

Strangely Therapeutic? Oddly Soothing?

Well yes, all up until the killing started.

"Vivid..." He peered down into the bottle. Despite the darkness, his keen vision could see he was down to about four more pills.

"I'm almost out, they've been happening so frequently, I take at least two a night now...." Kyle lamented, "It used to only take one.."

He feared he had developed a tolerance. And when you were taking pills to suppress a subconscious desire to eat people, that was a huge problem.

"I didn't wake you or anything did I?"

[Hank McCoy]

"You did not wake me", Henry said. "And the coffee I spilled will most likely come out in the wash." He mumbled something else about hoping so and another white lab coat but all of the words didn't make it through the door.

The change in dosage concerned him. Another dead end. "It looks as though the pharmacokinetics on this formula will require deeper consideration in our research", Henry said. It could add weeks, even months to the completion of the project. "Unfortunately, if we're going to maximize the potency of the present form it will require that we alter the method of delivery."

It was a fancy way of saying that it would require frequent injections rather than pills. Of course, it might have meant other methods of taking the medicine but none of them were pleasant either.

[wildchild]

"Sorry about that...." Kyle winced, "Maybe we should sound proof this room huh?"

More research, that meant that his "cure" would take longer to perfect. It took Dr. McCoy long enough to make the current formula, and although Kyle was grateful, the fear of losing himself to his dreams hovered over his head.

Some nights he could almost taste the blood.

"An injection perhaps?" Kyle offered, hoping that was what the Doctor was thinking as well. The idea of one concentrated dose straight to the bloodstream was logical enough, and it would kick in a lot faster as well.

[Hank McCoy]

"For now", Henry answered distractedly. He was already thinking about what he would need in order to help Kyle any further. The time. The supplies. The waiting for results. The work only Henry could do.

It was an uphill battle, but Henry was determined to find Kyle a cure.

"I will have an injectable solution ready for you in the morning", Henry called through the door. He tried to sound positive. "Try to get some sleep."

The clock was ticking. He had better start now.