Chapter 50 – Miss Planner and the Feeder
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"Hound Zero is reporting back. Mission success. They managed to capture it alive. They're on their way back with it right now."
"Splendid!"

"The Feeder wasn't as powerful as we thought. They took out its left arm and its bottom jaw in the first few minutes of combat, and it was very disoriented a... and they've arrived. Confirmation on two injured Hounds and one injured Feeder. They're moving it into the lab now."
"It looks like everything's settled, then. Do you mind if I take a moment to greet our guest?"

"Of course not, Miss Planner. I'd like to thank you again for your advice today. If we sent the Hounds out without backup, I don't know that we would've been able to take it alive."
"Think nothing of it. That's what I'm here for! I'll be back shortly, Donovan."
”Of course. See you soon."

Miss Planner couldn't wait to see the Feeder in person. She briskly walked to the elevator, scanned her keycard, and selected level 'B4.' The doors slid shut behind her with a quiet hiss, and she felt the cart begin to move. It was a long, quiet ride alone with her thoughts, and she used the opportunity to mentally go over everything she needed to do today. When the doors opened again, she was greeted by a wall of moist, hot air. It smelled like a mixture of dirt and old blood.

Miss Planner started down the long basement hall. Her loafers echoed on the cold concrete floor. There was a heavy silence, broken only by the soft whoosh of vent fans and a low beep from the security monitor.

She pushed open a pair of utilitarian metal doors and stepped inside the main lab. The lights came on automatically, revealing the stark white walls with blue trim. She stood for a moment in the large room, surveying her surroundings. It looked like the Chosen Ones' team of research scientists was deeper inside, probably getting started on the Feeder without her.

"Dalton! Where are you?" she shouted. "Don't tell me I'm missing all the fun!"

Her voice rang off the concrete ceiling and reverberated. Silence.

Miss Planner's smile faded into a frown as she surveyed her domain, then turned around slowly. She didn't spot Dalton or the Feeder anywhere.

"I'll kill him," she muttered under her breath.
She checked the lab, room by room.

"Thoughtless... willful... no respect for his superiors..." she growled angrily at the empty research stations and closed-off offices. "...probably spent all day playing video games."

There was a rumble deeper inside. Miss Planner was startled, but she quickly regained her composure and rushed to the source to find a overweight old man in a lab coat with stringy white hair. He was Dalton Tuske, world-famous researcher turned pariah of the scientific community due to his extremist political beliefs.

The old man was operating a giant piece of equipment that resembled a concrete mixer hooked up to a wall of computer consoles. It was producing a noisy crashing sound that occasionally rose to an ear-splittingly high-pitched whine.

"You worthless old fossil. How dare you get started without me? You're going to regret this!"
"Kehehe! I thought you were too busy with that fool in the security division to come down and see our new toy, dear Miss Planner. I've already got a team coming in to work on controlling the Feeder's movements. They should be ready to go in an hour."

"No need. I can control it. Is it restrained in the tank? Open up."
"Kehehe! Your wish is my command!"

Dr. Tuske pressed a few buttons on his keyboard and the steel containment tank slowly lifted away. The Feeder's head moved around curiously, its glowing red eyes blinking sleepily before it caught sight of the old man and tiny blonde woman standing there observing it. It was secured with bright orange straps to a steel frame within a specially hardened glass cylinder. A plastic cover partially shielded it from direct light, which made it somewhat difficult to observe the creature's behavior. It looked like a skeletally thin man covered in protective black scales, with incredibly long limbs, bulging red eyes, and a pair of long, spiky antennae on top of his skull.

Miss Planner was mildly surprised to see the Feeder almost completely still, even though it must've been aware of its predicament. The Feeder snarled quietly as it stared down at them through the thick glass, its intense hunger controlled through a combination of medication and power-dampening psychic materials.

"Looks like the Hounds were pretty rough with it. Half its face is gone."
"It'll heal in no time. These things are as durable as cockroaches. It won't be long until it learns how to stop the meds from working."

The two of them watched as the Feeder struggled for a moment with the restraints. It was clearly agitated, writhing and thrashing against the restraining device, but it was unable to break free. It didn't try very hard, either; it was struggling with its bonds more out of frustration than any kind of fighting spirit. After a minute or so, the Feeder slumped back in defeat, resigned to the inevitable.

"Dalton, can you turn the equipment off? I'm going to tame it now. I don't want any interference."
"Of course, Miss Planner. I would never dream of standing in your way. See, Keheh. No problem."

The machine's activity died down and the research station fell silent, save for the low hum of the ventilation system. The Feeder began to thrash about in the tank, slamming against its restraints. Its partially destroyed mouth opened wide and a low, guttural noise rumbled out of the depths of its throat. It bared its claws, swiping at the air loudly and violently.

Miss Planner slowly walked to the edge of the tank. The Feeder paid her no heed. It merely continued its tantrum, making loud, grating noises that sounded like the screams of a wounded animal.

"Nice to meet you, my little Feeder. You'll have to do better than that if you want to get loose."

She extended her left hand and ran it along the tank's metal frame, feeling for the right spot. She found it easily enough after a few seconds of searching. Her tiny fingers curled around the latch and pulled. The lid of the glass cylinder popped open with a hollow, metallic creak.

The Feeder stopped its noisy wailing as soon as Miss Planner removed the cover. It turned its head to look at her curiously. Miss Planner sighed softly and shook her head, then reached a hand inside the container.

'Soul Snake.'

Miss Planner's aura flared up and entered the beast's body. The Feeder screeched like she was stabbing it with a hot poker and shuddered in agony. She mercilessly probed its mind, modifying it and manipulating it like the Feeder was one of her puppets. It tried to claw its own eyes out in pain, but it couldn't reach them. Miss Planner kept pushing harder until the beast couldn't take anymore. It slumped against its restraints in a heap, overwhelmed by Miss Planner's power.

"That's a good boy," she cooed. "Good Feeder. Good Feeder."

Miss Planner gave the Feeder a more thorough mental examination, and felt nothing from it other than hunger. But it was still trying to resist her mental control. It was struggling weakly, like a drowning man fighting against his lifeguard. Miss Planner was a little annoyed. She gave it a powerful command, forcing it to listen and obey.

"Don't resist. Be calm."

It took a while for the Feeder to succumb to her will, but eventually, its limbs slackened. Its long, slender body collapsed in on itself like an empty husk. Miss Planner's eyes widened with delight. She rubbed a delicate hand on the monster's destroyed face, then leaned in and gave it a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"If you obey me, I'll take good care of you. If you fight back, I'll squish you like the nasty bug you are. Is that clear?"

The Feeder shivered and whined pitifully. It scraped its claws against the wall like a restless puppy, struggling to keep its balance. Finally, it gave in. Its pair of tiny antennae twitched and waved furiously as it stared at the ground, waiting for orders. Miss Planner smiled and whispered soothing words to it in a low voice.

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