Jurassic Park: Terra Sanguinum

Crimson filled the river. It reeked of salt. Salt and death. Something strange, though. No dinosaur corpse floated downstream. The body that washed up on the bank was the mutilated corpse of a human. As raptors surrounded it, something even more bizarre happened. A red cloud surrounded it and it slowly rose. When it was up, it was fully formed, yet its eyes burned with unearthly fire. The being, appearing male, looked at the sun and immediately vanished into the forest, leaving the raptors dead on the floor. As the thing dissolved into shadow, a red cloud formed over the corpses.

Chapter 1

Dr Malcolm sat in his office, perusing the morning paper. As ever, he checked for sightings, and yet again, nobody but the usual crackpots had anything to say about giant scaly monsters in the middle of the Pacific. He looked up. The walls of his office were quite dull, only vaguely improved by a small Picasso knock-off (not that you could tell the difference between it and the original). His desk was a coffee-stained mess, the centrepiece of which was a surprisingly expensive computer, surrounded by a sea of Post-Its with equations and sums. Besides the computer, the only other item of major value was a 17th century English bookcase filled with mathematical tomes, as well as a large number of palaeontology journals and books. He heard a knock.

"Dr Malcolm? Your therapy session."

"Therapy? Oh… right. I'm coming."

Malcolm solemnly marched out of his office, into the gloomy, grey elevator and out onto the therapist's floor. He hesitated a moment before knocking, but decided to knock and was let into the far cleaner, prettier office belonging to his therapist, Melanie.

"Ah, Doctor."

"Melanie."

"So, how was the lecture?"

"It could have gone better. The audience were unreceptive, arrogant pricks and my seat was uncomfortable. Besides, the only people who weren't offended by my theories really just wanted to know about New York."

"Ian, why are you hiding?"

"I don't think I am, Mel."

"You are. I can see it. Every minute of every day, you are fighting to avoid breaking down."

"What the hell makes you think that?"

"I see the way you speak, the way you walk. You don't want to let out your pain."

"So I've been through some bad stuff. Doesn't mean I'm clinically depressed."

"Not depressed. I think you are traumatised."

"By what?"

"You went to an island and watched your friends get eaten alive by dinosaurs. You then went to another island and watched more of your friends get eaten alive by bigger, angrier dinosaurs. I think you have never recovered."

"You expect me to just forget it all? I have seen things that you could not possibly imagine."

"You will never forget it, but you have to let go of the past."

"What makes you think I haven't?"

"When was the last dinosaur sighting?"

"Tuesday, a couple of pilots were flying by the Exclusion Zone around the Five Deaths and spotted a Pteranodon flying north."

"How do you know?"

"Oh, you know, it was in the paper."

"But that was quite specific. Tell me, how often do you find yourself checking on the dinosaurs?"

"Only occasionally."

"Really? I somehow doubt that. Tell me the truth."

"Fine. I am subscribed to at least 15 different magazines on the subject. Every hour I check the news for sightings. Yes, I like to keep up to date on the dinosaurs."

"You are obsessed. Afraid. This is classic behaviour for someone with serious paranoia."

"Enough of this, Mel. I am fine."

"Look, Ian, you need help. I have a deal for you. We send you off to rehab, and if they think you are fine, you go home and everything will be ok."

"No! I don't need help."

"Ian. Just try it, what harm can it do?"

"I trust the quacks at rehab even less than I trust you."

"You don't even know them!"

"I am a mathematician. I know many things."

"If you are fine after a day, they will let you go."

"One day. If I am fine after that, I go home. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

"Here's the address. Head down there Monday next week. The course is only a month, and yes, if there is nothing wrong, they will send you home."

"I swear, Mel, if you are wrong I will feed you to the fucking raptors myself."

"Goodbye, Dr Malcolm."

Malcolm stormed out of Melanie's office, out of the building and into a grimy Starbucks where he brooded over an espresso. Clearly, this was going to be a long month.