The red haze of primal, predatory fury was a difficult thing to escape. It was thick, intoxicating, and ran on the absolute autopilot of his spliced genetic design. But as Isaiah pushed deep into the dense, restricted jungle of the island's northern sector, the deafening thrum of the ACU helicopters finally began to fade. The smell of burning fuel and human blood was replaced by the clean, damp scent of ancient ferns and wet earth.He slowed his massive sixty-foot frame to a heavy, deliberate walk, his huge three-toed feet sinking deep into the mud. He found a secluded clearing surrounded by towering redwood trees, flanked by a high cliff face with a rushing, cold waterfall.Exhausted from the escape and the sudden crash of adrenaline, Isaiah collapsed to the ground. His massive chest heaved in rhythmic, heavy breaths.And in the silence of that sanctuary, the monster's mind finally began to quiet.Like a drowning boy breaking the surface of a dark ocean, the consciousness of fifteen-year-old Isaiah suddenly surged back to the forefront. For years in the lagoon, and during the violent frenzy in the Gyrosphere Valley, he had been a passenger in his own skull—watching through a thick, distorted glass as his biological instincts drove his body to feed, to hunt, and to kill.But now, the glass was shattered. His human mind took back the wheel.Isaiah looked down at his massive, dark scaly claws resting in the mud. He could feel the residual, metallic taste of blood still coating his long snout and the back of his throat.What have I done? he thought.The memories of the valley came flooding back, unedited and horrifyingly vivid. He didn't just remember a chaotic feeding frenzy; he remembered the terrified, pleading eyes of the people he had killed. He remembered the young honeymooning couple in the first sphere. He remembered the desperate, high-pitched screams of the family of four before his massive foot had flattened their sphere like an aluminum can.Isaiah curled his massive tail around his body, a wave of profound, crushing guilt and absolute self-loathing crashing over his mind. He was a fifteen-year-old boy who had been loved by his parents. He was the kid who loved running track and eating pancakes.And he had just murdered fifteen innocent people.Tears he didn't know his massive reptilian eyes could produce began to well up in the corners of his yellow, slit-pupil eyes. They rolled down his dark scales, dripping into the mud below. He let out a low, mournful rumble that vibrated deep in his chest—a sound that carried the heavy, heartbreaking weight of pure human grief.I am a monster, he wept silently, the realization tearing at his soul far worse than any bullet from Cooper's rifle ever could. I'm exactly what Dr. Wu engineered me to be. A weapon. Property.The monster in him wanted to accept it. The genetic coding told him that he was the apex predator, and that the weak deserved to be consumed. But the boy named Isaiah refused to let go of the last shred of his humanity. He didn't want to be a mindless engine of destruction. He wanted to be a person.He forced his massive, heavy body to sit up. He walked slowly over to the rushing waterfall at the edge of the cliff.Isaiah lowered his long, sixty-foot snout into the freezing water. He didn't drink. Instead, he used his massive, clawed hands and the rushing force of the water to scrub his face. He washed away the dried blood of his victims. He washed away the dirt of the paddock and the grease of the broken glass. He scrubbed until the dark, charcoal scales of his face were clean, and the brilliant blue bioluminescent stripes on his flanks pulsed with a soft, calm, and mournful light.He looked at his reflection in the deep pool at the bottom of the waterfall. He still looked like a nightmare. He was a multi-ton Spinosaurus hybrid with rows of teeth designed to shred flesh.But as he looked into his own yellow eyes, Isaiah noticed something different. The cold, unfeeling, clinical gaze of Asset 87 was gone. In its place were eyes that looked deeply tired, sorrowful, and profoundly aware.He was still in a monster's body. But for the first time in years, the human boy was actively in control.Isaiah bared his teeth, not in aggression, but in a display of fierce human resolve. He couldn't undo the terrible things he had done in the valley. He couldn't bring those fifteen people back to life. But he could make a choice about who he was going to be moving forward.He would not be Dr. Wu's perfect weapon. He would not be a mindless beast for the tourists to gawk at. He would use his human intelligence and his overwhelming physical power to survive on his own terms—and maybe, if the opportunity ever presented itself, find a way to protect the innocent instead of destroying them.Isaiah lay back down in the shade of the redwoods, closing his yellow eyes. For the first time since waking up in that cold, artificial incubation tank on Isla Sorna, he felt a spark of his true self. He was a dinosaur. He was a killer. But above all else, he was still Isaiah.
