Chapter 1 - the last hug you’ll ever get

The last thing Isaiah felt was warmth.It was the warmth of his mother's hug on a crisp Saturday morning and the smell of the pancakes his dad always overcooked on the weekends. Isaiah was fifteen, and by all accounts, he was a lucky kid. He wasn't a loner or an outcast; he was loved. His parents weren't perfect, but they supported his intense, borderline-obsessive love for paleontology and dinosaurs."Don't forget your track spikes, kiddo," his dad had said, tossing him his gym bag with a grin. "And remember, lean into the curves. You've got the legs of a Raptor.""I know, Dad," Isaiah had laughed, rolling his eyes but smiling.His mom pulled him into a tight embrace at the front door. "We'll be in the stands cheering for you. Run fast, stay safe. We love you, Isaiah.""Love you too, Mom. See you at the meet."He had stepped out into the world, feeling invincible. He was jogging toward the school bus stop, listening to music on his earbuds, when the world turned white. He hadn't even heard the horn. A massive delivery truck—the legendary, unstoppable "Truck-kun" of internet memes—had lost control on the slick, rain-soaked asphalt.There was a screech of tires, a blinding flash of chrome, and a deafening, bone-shattering crunch.Isaiah didn't feel the pain for long. He just felt a sudden, terrifying coldness as his consciousness slipped away from the pavement. The last thing he thought of wasn't fear, but a desperate, aching wish to see his parents again. To tell them one last time how much he loved them.And then, the warmth was gone. Replaced by a thick, dark, suffocating void.Isaiah didn't know how long he was in the dark. It felt like seconds; it felt like centuries.Slowly, physical sensations began to return. But they were all wrong. He felt a deep, invasive chill that seemed to seep directly into his bones—or whatever was currently serving as his bones. His environment was thick, viscous, and smelled intensely of ozone and sterile chemicals.Am I in a hospital? Isaiah thought, trying to twitch his fingers. Did I survive the crash?Instead of fingers, he felt something heavy and clawed shift against a smooth, curved wall. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt like they were glued shut. Panic flared in his chest, making his heart hammer at an alarming rate. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It sounded too heavy. Too powerful. It was the heartbeat of an engine, not a boy.Suddenly, a voice pierced through the darkness. It was muffled, sounding as if the speaker was underwater."Vitals are stabilizing. The genetic splicing is holding much better in this batch than in the 80-series.""Good," a second, colder voice replied. "The Board was furious about the failure of the Spinosaurus prototype's social conditioning. We need Asset 87 to be more adaptable, more intelligent, but ultimately more controllable. Is the growth accelerator still active?""Yes, Dr. Wu. At the current rate, Asset 87 will reach sub-adult size within the next eight weeks. We are ready for the awakening sequence."Dr. Wu? Asset 87? Genetic splicing?Isaiah's human mind reeled. He knew those names. He was a massive dinosaur nerd in his past life. He had watched the Jurassic Park movies countless times. This couldn't be real. This had to be a hallucination in his dying moments.A sharp, stinging sensation lanced through his neck. A computer terminal beeped rhythmically in the background."Administering the awakening stimulant now," the first voice said. "Draining the artificial amniotic fluid."The world tilted. Isaiah felt the thick liquid rushing away from his body, replaced by a sudden, harsh rush of freezing air. His lungs—heavy and massive—expanded involuntarily, drawing in a sharp, burning breath of oxygen.He coughed, a wet, guttural sound that vibrated deep in his chest. It didn't sound human. It sounded like a gutteral growl.Isaiah forced his eyes open.His vision was blurry at first, washed in a sterile, fluorescent blue light. He was lying on a cold, metal grating. Glass walls surrounded him, forming a massive cylindrical incubation tank. Beyond the glass stood several figures in pristine white lab coats, holding clipboards and staring at him with clinical, unfeeling eyes.At the center of the group stood a man Isaiah recognized instantly from the movies: Dr. Henry Wu. The lead geneticist looked younger here than he did in the later films, his face hardened with a cold, calculating ambition.Isaiah tried to push himself up. He looked down at his hands, and a jolt of pure horror struck his mind.They weren't hands. They were dark, scaly forelimbs ending in three wicked, curved talons. He shifted his weight, feeling the heavy, powerful swing of a long, muscular tail behind him. He looked at his reflection in the glass of the tank.He wasn't a human anymore. He didn't have his track spikes or his gym bag.He was a dinosaur. His skin was a dark, charcoal grey with faint, bioluminescent blue stripes running down his flanks. His snout was elongated, filled with serrated teeth, and a pair of small, crest-like ridges sat above his amber, slit-pupil eyes. He looked like a cross between a Velociraptor and something much larger and more terrifying.I'm Asset 87, Isaiah realized, his breath coming in short, panicked huffs. I'm an InGen experiment. I died... and I came back as a monster.A wave of grief crashed over him, so intense it made his scaly chest ache. He would never see his parents again. He would never eat his dad's burnt pancakes or get a hug from his mom. He was alone in a laboratory full of monsters and scientists who viewed him as nothing more than property."Remarkable," Dr. Wu murmured, stepping closer to the glass. "Look at the problem-solving light in its eyes. It's already analyzing its environment. The inclusion of the modified Troodon DNA for intelligence seems to be a success.""Should we begin the physical testing, Doctor?" the assistant asked."No," Wu said, checking his watch. "We have received word that the cleanup operations on Isla Sorna are being compromised. An illegal parasailing expedition went missing near the island. It won't be long before rescue operations or scavengers arrive. We need to cut our losses and evacuate the lab. Move Asset 87 to the holding pens in the jungle. Let nature do the field testing for us. If it survives the ecosystem, we will retrieve it later."Isaiah's heart sank. The illegal parasailing expedition... Eric Kirby. That meant the events of Jurassic Park IIIwere about to begin. He was on Site B, the dreaded "Five Deaths" archipelago, and he was about to be thrown into the wild.Before Isaiah could process the terror of his situation, a heavy iron gate at the back of his tank hissed open."Move it, 87," a heavily armed InGen security guard barked, prodding the inside of the cage with an electric cattle prod.Isaiah acted on pure instinct. His new, powerful muscles coiled like springs. With a speed that shocked even himself, he lunged backward, avoiding the shock. He bared his teeth and let out a low, warning hiss that rattled the glass.The guards flinched, their fingers tightening on the triggers of their rifles."Easy there, big guy," the guard muttered, sweating. "Into the transport crate. Now."Isaiah knew he couldn't fight armed men yet. He was still small—maybe the size of a leopard—and his bones felt rubbery from the growth acceleration. Swallowing his human pride and terror, he backed into the darkened transport crate.The heavy steel door slammed shut behind him, plunging him into total darkness.He could feel the crate being lifted, the vibrations of a heavy truck engine roaring to life beneath him. He was leaving the lab. He was being dumped into the wild green hell of Isla Sorna, where a massive Spinosaurus, packs of hyper-intelligent raptors, and countless other horrors were waiting for him.Isaiah curled his scaly tail around his body and closed his eyes. Tears he didn't know a dinosaur could shed welled in the corners of his yellow eyes. He was fifteen years old, he was a monster, and if he ever wanted to honor his parents' memory, he had to survive.