COVELENT: XenoTrait

Felix sat in silence, the house was clean now too clean.

The smell of blood was gone, scrubbed away with relentless precision. The shattered tank had been replaced. The floors gleamed faintly under the light. Even the air felt sterile but something was wrong.

Felix felt empty but at the moment none of it mattered.

He could still see it....Every time he blinked the snapping shell, the blood, the horror of what had happened to his body, the way he moved without hesitation, without restraint all of it was on his mind like a memory that never leaves.

Felix leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as his hands trembled, "...I lost control."

The moment those words left his mouth they didn’t feel like his own.

’Control had always defined me, every calculation i have ever ran, every experiment....

In that moment a momery hit " Benovel and what happened to him"

Well that happened under my control...i guess I never had control.

It’s the same with the Foundation....i even brought Abel into this thinking that I’ll make a cure’ he pondered

"Hahaha" he laughed as he sighed, "how laughable."

’Even failure has structure I guess but that...That wasn’t failure, that was instinct...the instict of a predator finding it prey.’ He thought.

He exhaled slowly and picked up the recorder.

Click.

"Day 5: Subject demonstrates loss of control under extreme hunger."

A pause.

"Behaviour becomes... predatory."

He stopped recording, staring at the device, "Predatory..." he murmured.

He continues recording, " no semblance of human rationality."

"Predatory."

The next few days blurred together as Felix built a routine, "I take blood first to suppress the hunger... then flesh to regulate reconstruction."

It was necessary because he couldn’t afford another incident.

The next test he did was deliberate, controlled. This time, he purchased a rabbit it was small, manageable and most importantly it was predictable.

He prepared everything in advance, clean tools, containers, and a controlled environment.

Felix knelt in front of the animal, expression steady, "I’m not going to lose control again."

The rabbit twitched as Felix was bringing down a knife. The rabbit moved and Felix cut it’s leg instead.

Felix looked down on it and said, "I’m sorry man...just stop moving otherwise it’s going to be more painful just don’t move."

He then attempted to cut it again and this time it was precise. The cut was clean, he cut off the head cleanly.

Blood flowed out at an alarming rate, he quickly collected it carefully in his hands he put the first hand full in a container.

Blood was still flowing so he put a bowel down so it will be collected.

He collected another handful of blood and he drank it... Felix’s eyes opened wide as he drank the blood.

He then continuously chucked it all...the blood was too much to the point were it leaked out of the sides of his lips as he drank.

He wiped away the blood. The effect was immediate.

The hunger that was driving him mad had finally dulled...not gone, but quieted.

"...Manageable," he muttered.

Then came the second step. He cut a small piece of flesh and forced himself to eat slowly.

His body reacted but not violently as before. This time there was no surge, no loss of control.

Instead there was warmth. A warmth that had no explainable source but this warmth embraced him.

A steady, controlled response. Felix stood and walked to the mirror. The changes were subtle but ever present his body always recontacted into a lean and muscular build each time, his short black hair shined as he was shirtless whilst examining his body for any new changes.

His body was stabilising, "Controlled intake produces controlled results." He concluded.

He reached for the recorder.

Click.

"Day 6: Blood suppresses hunger. Flesh initiates reconstruction. Proper sequencing prevents loss of control."

Click.

For the first time since the incident, he felt something close to relief but It didn’t last.

The issue wasn’t control but It was scale.

Felix stood in his lab, staring at his notes, variables, inconsistencies and limits.

"This isn’t enough."

Small animals weren’t sufficient. Their mass was limited. Their biology too simple.

He needed more....Larger samples, more consistency.

He turned toward the window. Outside, life moved normally. People walking. Cars passing.

Meanwhile, he stood inside calculating how much flesh it took to sustain himself.

"...I need a reliable source."

The thought stayed and it only grew.

Hours turned into days. Felix searched, ’Livestock markets. Suppliers. Auctions.’

His eyes narrowed slightly, "Auctions... bulk supply. Consistent. Efficient."

He leaned back.

"That could work."

Access wouldn’t be difficult because he knew someone.

That night, he made the call.

"...Felix." a voice came through the phone.

"Marcel. I need access to a livestock auction."

A pause.

"That’s simple enough," Marcel replied. "There’s one happening this week. I can get you in."

"...Good."

"You buying or just looking?" Marcel asked.

"Buying."

A quiet chuckle from Marcel, "Didn’t think I’d hear that from you."

Felix didn’t respond.

"I’ll send you the details," Marcel continued. "You’ll be listed. Just show up."

"...Thanks."

"Don’t mention it."

The call ended.

Felix set the phone down.

"Good."

The days leading up to it were controlled. He stayed true to his routine...Blood to stabilise and flesh to maintain.

Too little he weakened and if too much he risked slipping.

Balance was what he sought for because everything depended on balance.

Felix stood before the mirror again....Lean and defined, "...This is working."

But something still felt incomplete, "This isn’t the final state...but i can only assume."

The day arrived. Felix dressed simply and left early.

The drive was quiet just a battle with his thoughts

The auction was exactly what he expected, Open. Organised and Practical.

Farmers, buyers, and traders moved through the space with purpose. Livestock stood in fenced sections sheep, goats, cattle.

Voices carried across the area.

’Bidding. Negotiation.’ Routine was nothing but normal.

Felix stepped inside, observing. This was what he needed.

The auction began shortly after.

An auctioneer stood at the front, calling out numbers with practiced rhythm.

"£200 do I have £220? Yes, £220.... £250, £250 going once..."

Hands lifted. Voices followed.

Felix watched carefully at first, studying the flow.

Understanding timing, the pacing.

Then he stepped in.

A group of sheep were brought forward.

"£180—£200—£220—"

Felix raised his hand slightly, "£240."

Another bidder countered, "£260."

Felix paused calculated then shook his head, ’ Not worth it.’

Next came goats.

Stronger. More value.

"£300—£320—£350—"

Felix entered again, "£370."

A man across from him raised his bid, "£400."

Felix considered it but let it go.

Still not ideal.

Then came a mixed lot.One sheep, One goat and One young cow.

The auctioneer spoke quickly, "Starting at £500—do I have £550?"

Felix’s attention sharpened, ’This...This is efficient.’

He raised his hand.

"£550."

Another bidder followed.

"£600."

Felix didn’t hesitate.

"£650."

A pause. The other bidder studied him.

Then stepped back.

The auctioneer nodded, "£650—going once—going twice—"

A brief silence."Sold."

Felix exhaled slowly, "A good deal....More than enough.’

As arrangements were finalised, Felix stood quietly, watching the animals being prepared for collection.

He put a calm, controlled façade but beneath that the hunger stirred.

He started swallowing his own saliva as an attempt to hide it.

Felix adjusted his sleeve slightly.

"...This will work."

And this time he meant it.

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