Jasmine had been visiting John for weeks at this point, and almost every day. She had reached a level of trust that the guards didn't even bother searching her before entering, and she knew them all by name. She smiled happily and greeted them with paper bags in her arms, so two of them helped her carry them inside.

Being in Mr. Morris' house felt normal now, almost as if she belonged there, even though she had no real purpose to be there given that Lauren hadn't sent her to Mr. Morris on any kind of assignment. And yet, Jasmine was compelled to continue seeing him, if not for sheer curiosity, but the sense that somehow if she could figure him out, if she could keep him close, then she could better protect Caleb.

"Mr. Morris!" she called. The echoes of her voice rang out through the hollow walls. But there was no reply. She called out to him again. Same result. Jasmine split up with guards: one searched the courtyard, the other searched the upstairs, while Jasmine remained downstairs.

There was no trace of John in the living room or kitchen, besides the empty whiskey bottle left on the counter. A tiny sense of panic began to well up inside of Jasmine, as her mind began to invent horrible scenarios regarding his whereabouts.

"Mr. Morris?" she repeated, gingerly pushing open the guest bathroom door. It was empty. She checked his study. That was empty, too.

She shut the door behind her. The dark hallway felt longer, as if the shadows stretched farther than they usually did. As she peered down the hallway, she realized why. The basement door was open. It was Mr. Morris' private basement; his auxiliary laboratory. Usually that door was bolted shut behind a keycode. Now it had been swung completely ajar. From deep within the shadows descending into the blackness to where the light could no longer reach it, she felt a living presence, a miasmic breath that came slithering up and took hold of Jasmine. It compelled her towards it.

She called for Mr. Morris once more, this time her voice was meeker, as her lips slightly trembled. She took a step down, and looked back over her shoulder to see if anyone was coming. There was no one. The presence was even stronger. Now, she could hear the hum of machinery and their electric blue ambience that pervaded the dark laboratory.

As Jasmine descended the final step, she looked around. John's auxiliary laboratory was immaculate, but empty. At its center was a round, metal chamber, with a bottom-heavy shape like the bulb of a flower that had not bloomed. The door to the chamber was left open. A hazy blue aura emanated from it, drawing her to it like a moth. The sound of soft, but labored breathing made her run to it.

"Mr. Morris!" she cried, as her fingers touched the cold metal threshold and she peered inside. What she saw next turned her skin pale.

It was skin; living, breathing skin wrapped around a pillar as thick as a tree trunk suspended by a thick canopy of wires descending from the ceiling. There were limbs, several of them, fused together as if they were one, and a dozen torsos with hollow stomachs and ribs showing and womanly breasts. As Jasmine gazed upon the dozen heads protruding from the trunk, she watched their lips move as the entire body softly moaned in chorus.

Her mouth opened wide. Jasmine couldn't hear any sound come out. She couldn't hear anything anymore. She felt a large hand wrap around her face and seal her lips together.

"Don't scream. Can't you see she's sleeping peacefully?" whispered John. He squeezed her tiny face in his palms. Jasmine could smell the whiskey vapor emanating from his pores, and at that moment, even without him saying it, she felt like he might kill her.

"Oh, too late," he said. The face at the center began to stir. It opened its large eyes; two hollow gray orbs without color. It wasn't long before the others awoke behind the first, and together, they began to emit an anguished, otherworldly cry that drove Jasmine out of her skin, squirming within John's clutches.

"I never meant for you to see this, Ms. Jones. But I guess now that you have, there's no turning back."

She looked up at him as he smiled that same charming and warm smile, which now to her resembled the grinning eyes of a snake about to unhinge its jaw and swallow her whole.

"Allow me to introduce you to Daphne."