Chapter 2 - The Nest
The final layer of padding gave way with a muffled tear. Evelyn parted the thick cotton, and the harsh fluorescent hospital light spilled directly into the cavity against Noah’s forearm.
Daniel gasped, stumbling backward until his spine hit the medical cart, sending plastic cups crashing to the floor.
Nestled in a bed of damp, rotting mulch and dark, squirming clusters against Noah’s pale skin was a writhing mass of dozens of newly hatched forest centipedes, their multi-segmented bodies frantically thrashing against the sudden light. They had been trapped inside the airtight seal of the plaster, feeding on the sweat, heat, and raw scabs of the boy's skin. A web of angry, purple-black venom tracks laced outward from the bites across Noah’s entire forearm.
“Oh, God,” Daniel choked out, vomiting a little in his mouth as he stared at the nightmarish sight. “Oh, dear God in heaven.”
Noah let out a sound that wasn't quite human, passing out from the shock and pain as his head fell back against the pillow.
Marissa was shaking violently, her cashmere coat suddenly looking like a straitjacket. She forced a hollow, hysterical laugh. “It’s... it’s a prank! The boy must have collected bugs in the basement and shoved them up his cast himself! He’s crazy, Daniel, I told you he’s unstable—”
Evelyn didn't yell. She didn't argue. With the cold, calculated grace of a predator, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a sterile specimen jar, and using her gloved hand, swept three of the living insects directly into the glass container, snapping the lid shut.
She turned her dark, unblinking eyes straight onto Marissa.
“Forest centipedes of this specific subterranean species don't live in basements, Mrs. Vale,” Evelyn said smoothly, stepping between Marissa and the exit. “They only thrive in deep, acidic limestone caves—specifically the ones located two miles behind your family’s old abandoned country estate. The estate you inherited last year.”
Marissa’s jaw locked. The mask had completely shattered. Beneath the designer makeup, she looked like a cornered animal.
“You’re fired,” Marissa hissed, her voice dropping an octave into a venomous snarl. “Both of you. You’re ruined. I’ll make sure Daniel takes every cent you have.”
“You won’t be making many choices tonight, Marissa,” a cool, authoritative voice echoed from the doorway.
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Two uniformed police officers, flanked by a towering detective in a trench coat, stepped into the trauma bay. The detective flashed a gold badge.
“Mrs. Marissa Vale? I’m Detective Vance. You need to come with us. And don’t bother calling a lawyer just yet—we found your second shopping receipt from the exotic pet exporter, and your fingerprint is currently glowing under UV light on the interior lining of your stepson’s fiberglass cast.”
